Interphase
by BlueCheetah
Summary: This story is based off of the Walking Dead and it is my version of what happens after season 4 ends. It starts off with Daryl and Beth fleeing the prison after the Governor attacks and slowly builds a relationship between them. Then, it follows Beth and Daryl once they are separated and how they manage to be reunited.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is the first fan fiction I have ever written and I would appreciate any feedback. The story is called Interphase because that is the time for growth in the cell and both Beth and Daryl's characters will hopefully do a lot of growing in this story. I am starting my story off right after the attack by the Governor on the prison. Daryl and Beth have escaped together. At the beginning, I will mostly follow the storyline in the TV series, except where I feel like embellishing. My plan is to get to the last episode of season 4 and then put in what I think will happen next and my theory of Beth and her kidnapping. The italicized parts are thoughts, in case that isn't clear. I hope ya'll enjoy!**

Beth's POV

Beth's feet pounded against the ground. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps. _Just keep running, don't think_. She didn't want to see the fences being torn down. She didn't want to see the panic as people ran around crying and enemies came over the fences into their home. She didn't want to see Judith, who had been sitting in her baby basket all ready to go. She didn't want to see her dad die again and again in her head. She didn't want to see anything anymore. It was easy to keep running because as long as she did, the pain of reality would be held off. The immediate pain of her body kept her from seeing those images that she didn't want to see, that she never wanted to see in the first place. She had hoped that the prison was the end of their troubles, the end of their running and camping outside, but it wasn't. She shook her head to get those thoughts out of her head. Instead of thinking, she just kept her eyes on the angle wings on the back of Daryl's jacket and followed them, because that was all she could do. She watched those angle wings as they flew past tree branches and over bushes and she raced behind desperately, because they were the only connection she had left.

An hour later, Daryl finally stopped, falling to the ground, his breath rasping. She stopped too and suddenly her legs gave out. The grass and twigs were prickly but at the moment they felt like heaven. _Heaven is where daddy is now_. Her last thought before she fell into sleep was that her daddy was in a much better place, he didn't have to run anymore, unlike her.

Daylight came streaming through the branches, bringing Beth out of her slumber. She didn't open her eyes because for just a moment she could pretend that she was still back in the prison, back behind those safe walls with her family. The tweeting of birds told her that the jail was just an illusion now. Beth could feel the ache of soreness in her legs from the running, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the pain she felt in her heart. She opened her eyes and sat up. She was near a tree; the small area had been surrounded by string with various noisy objects on them. There was no sign of Daryl, which Beth was happy for because right now she felt like crying and she wasn't close enough to the tough man to feel comfortable doing so in front of him. A single tear trickled down her cheek and then the rest came. After sobbing uncontrollably, she began to pull herself together. _Everyone has a job to do_. That is what her daddy has always said and she needed to find one now to keep her from falling apart.

She stood up and stretched her aching limbs and looked around. There were trees for as far as she could see, which wasn't very far. There were a few items laying around that Daryl must have brought with him, she didn't know how he always managed to be prepared but she admired that in him. After considering organizing the few possessions, she decided against it. Better to not touch Daryl's stuff, he could be a bit scary. Of course, he wasn't scary in a bad way, just in a tough way. Beth knew Daryl was a good guy, he had always brought the group back food and did the jobs no one else wanted to do. However, despite the security that his presence brought her, she also felt very awkward around him. She had known him for years now, but they had never even held much of conversation in that whole time. _Things are the way they are and you just have to deal with it. _

Daryl's POV

The squirrel was climbing up the trunk of the pine tree. Daryl lowered his crossbow into position, getting a better aim at his target. The furry creature darted around before stopping halfway up the tree. That was a fatal mistake and the bolt pierced it before it could take another step. Daryl stood up, his knees aching from yesterday's run. He shambled over to the critter and lifted it, still attached to his bolt. _This isn't nearly enough for the both of us_. He had left Beth asleep at their camp site. He figured she could use the sleep after what she had been through. Beth wouldn't have to go through this if he had been more prepared or if he had stopped Hershel from leaving the prison. If he had just protected the place better, things could have been different. He had let Rick down, he had let Carol down, and he had let his whole group down.

He felt guilt taking over his mind and quickly shut it down. Nothing could be done to change the past. Right now he needed to focus on the task at hand, which was feeding Beth, the only member left in his group, and one squirrel wasn't going to cut it. He slunk through the forest with a quietness he had learned as a boy. He saw everything laid out before his eyes. Hoof prints marked the ground. The two parts of the hoof were close together, which mean the deer had been walking. It could still be in this area. Daryl began following the trail. He was about to take another step when the ground shifted a bit just in front of his foot. He stopped in his tracks and took in the long diamond back rattlesnake that was coiling up just under his boot. In a smooth motion, he whipped his crossbow around and shot it straight through the head. The reptile's body continued to thrash even though it was dead, very similar to how the walkers were. Daryl grabbed the snake and began to make his way back to camp.

Beth's POV

Beth finished the small hole she was digging. She was sure Daryl was going to come back with food, or at least hoped so because her stomach was twisting in on itself. She began scavenging for little sticks and twigs to begin the fire, being careful not to wander too far. Finally, she had enough. In Daryl's pile of things was a magnifying glass. She picked it up and used it to focus the sunlight on her pile of twigs. Smoke began to rise up and finally the pile caught fire, the flames began leaping up and dancing in the little pit. Beth ran around getting bigger sticks and built the fire up. Just as she was adding the last stick, a thud came from her right side. She jumped and what she saw didn't make her feel any better. A gigantic snake lay right beside her and she was about to freak when she saw that its head was cut clean off. She looked up, with eyes still wide, at Daryl who had somehow managed to get into the campsite without a single noise. "Dinner," he said and then he also threw a squirrel beside the snake. "How does he move so quietly," Beth wondered.

Beth took a moment to compose herself. "I don't know how to cook snake," she said without her voice trembling too much from her recent scare. Daryl stared at her a moment, probably wondering how she had survived without ever cooking a snake. Then, he nodded his shaggy head and picked up the reptile. Daryl reached into his pocket and pulled out a small knife and set to work. Beth went and got the squirrel and began to prepare it.

Preparing the squirrel brought back memories. Carol had taught her how to skin squirrels and cook them, not that she had done it much with her always watching Judith. _No! Don't think of Judith right now_! Beth quickly turned her thoughts away from the precious little girl who felt like her own. She concentrated on skinning the squirrel and finding sticks to put the bits of meat on before roasting them in the fire. Daryl had the snake skinned real quick and he handed it to her to roast as well. She made a disgusted face and began to cook it too. Daryl settled down with his back against a tree and he began staring out in the forest. She had never been around the redneck much and had never gotten a really good look at him. The angle wing jacket he always wore was over a red sleeveless shirt, showing off his muscular arms. His hair was a long mess, but somehow he looked alright with it. He had little scratches on his clothes and his arms. Beth wondered if he had any more serious injuries after all the fighting he had done the other day. Suddenly, Daryl breathed in real deep and turned around to catch her staring at him. She froze like a deer in the headlights, not completely sure what to do.

"You are burning the damn snake," Daryl said. Beth whipped her head around to see a portion of the snake turning black. She pulled it out the fire and began blowing on it. Finally, she gave up trying to save it. _That is the best it is going to get_. She looked at meat hesitantly, Beth had been getting more used to eating questionable things but snake wasn't one of them. Daryl must have sensed her hesitancy because he held out his hand and took the snake from her and dug right in. She picked up the stick with the squirrel and bit into the meat. It tasted great, probably because she hadn't eaten in a while. Beth slide down the trunk of a tree and ate every bit of the meat.

When she finished, her mind started moving again, bringing up things that she couldn't push down. She missed the prison, her father, her sister, and having a bed. She stared into the fire as she began talking. Beth knew Daryl wasn't much of a talker, but she needed to vocalize the thoughts that were in her mind. "We can't be the only survivors. I am sure the others are out there, maybe even nearby. I'm sure Maggie got out, my sister is tough." Beth wasn't so sure if she was telling the truth or just convincing herself. Daryl gave her a grunt of acknowledgement. Something about his lack of concern just irritated her. After all they had been through, the least he could do was say something. "We should look for a house, something better than living out in the woods," Beth pleaded, "This isn't living, it is just not dying. I don't want to live off squirrels and sleep on the ground." Daryl just stared at her.. His lack of emotion seemed to increase the flame of her own emotion. Then, an idea came to her out of nowhere. _Daddy always said drinking was bad, but that was before all of this. Maybe just a little bit would get rid of the memories, ease the pain_.

"I want a drink," was all Beth said. Daryl took that in for a moment and then tossed her the bottle of water. "No not that kind of drink, a real drink, something alcoholic," she said, her voice rising. "Quit being stupid," Daryl replied tersely. That was the last straw, Beth stood up and started semi-yelling at him. "I want a drink, I never had one before the whole world went to shit and I want one now. If you aren't going to come then I will go by myself. I am not some child who needs permission." Beth knew she was being unreasonable but she couldn't help herself. Beth stalked past where Daryl was sitting and he didn't make a move to stop her. She began walking, not quite sure where she was going but determined to find a place to sleep and get something to drink.

Daryl's POV

After Beth stalked off he buried his head in his hands. He didn't know how to handle women, much less emotional young ones. One second she was sitting there eating her squirrel just fine and the next she blew up about wanting alcohol. _Well, shit_. He knew he needed to pack up their few things and follow her. She was the last thing he had to watch after and maybe he could make it up to Hershel by keeping his precious daughter alive. She was so young and innocent and not meant for living out here like this.

Daryl got up and quickly unwound the skinny rope from around the trees surrounding their campsite. He stuffed all the items in a bag and hoisted his crossbow over his shoulder. Then, he kicked dirt over their fire before heading out to follow Beth.

It didn't take long for him to find her but he stayed well enough behind that she wouldn't notice him. He didn't know how to make her feel better or what to say. No matter how long he had been in the group, he didn't seem to get any better with talking to people about emotional stuff and Beth was sure emotional right now. She was stalking through the forest with such ferocity that it wasn't a surprise when three walkers started heading toward her. He watched as they began moving in her direction. Suddenly, Beth seemed to notice them and she quickly moved behind a tree. Her eyes were wide with fear. Daryl raised his crossbow, ready to take action if the walkers noticed her. Two of the walkers got close but then lost interest and left. One of the walkers wasn't as easily fooled. It stumbled closer to the tree Beth was behind, stretching its dirty arms out. Just as Daryl was about to shoot the walker, Beth jumped out of her hiding space and planted a knife in its head. The walker slumped to the ground and Beth pulled the knife out, her breath coming in gasps. Daryl had to admire her courage. She hadn't been as exposed to all the violence like most of them had since she was always kept protected in her father's house or in the prison. However, it appeared that the blonde could do what was necessary just as much as any of them.

Daryl stepped out from behind his cover and Beth looked up at him with those big eyes of hers. He gestured forward and they began walking again, him a little bit in front, watching for danger.

Beth's POV

Once again, Beth was following the angel wings, wings she was sure she had memorized every line and curve of by now. Daryl apparently cared more than he let on earlier because he had followed her after she had left. However, she knew Daryl wasn't the most social out of their group, so he had probably not meant to make her mad. Beth felt embarrassment color her cheeks as she remembered how she had gotten angry at him. _He probably thinks you're a child after that little tantrum._ Beth was so lost in her thoughts that she almost ran straight into the hard back that wore the angle wings. She looked around Daryl's body to see that the forest had an opening with railroad tracks running through it. Daryl stood completely still, probably scooping out the area. He must have determined that it was safe because he began walking forward again. Beth followed him, a bit wary to be out in the open again but happy because that meant she was getting closer to what she wanted.

They hadn't been walking long when they came across a couple of walkers feeding on something in the middle of the tracks. Daryl raised his crossbow and fired until all the zombies were dead. Beth followed Daryl as he retrieved this bolts. The walkers must have been feeding on something small and that was when Beth noticed the tiny child's shoe. Suddenly, the emotions all swelled up and tears began sliding down her cheeks. _Be strong, it wasn't Judith, don't fall apart_. Daryl had finished retrieving his bolts and stood there being very obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation. Finally, Beth regained control of herself and she nodded at Daryl, who took that as the sign to continue on. Beth fell in line behind him and began staring at the angel wings again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: During this chapter, Beth and Daryl become much closer. Daryl begins to respect Beth more and Beth may even begin to feel a little more than companionship for the rough redneck! I hope ya'll enjoy. **

Beth POV

It was getting late, Beth and Daryl had walked along the railroad all day without coming across anything other than trees and a few squirrels. They didn't talk much while they walked, but Beth had found it relaxing to be outside on such a pretty day. All day the wind had blown just enough to keep them cool in the summer heat. Beth's feet were getting sore, but she knew better than to mention anything. She didn't want Daryl to feel like he needed to baby her by stopping to rest all the time. However, she wasn't used to being so active. Back at camp she had always taken care of Judith, which was hard work but not physically demanding. A long time ago, when she used to work on her daddy's farm, she had been in much better shape from all the chores she did, but then again, she had had three square meals a day and a good night's sleep. Beth rarely slept well anymore. Walkers often interrupted her dreams and caused her to wake up sweating. Back at the prison, Beth used to curl up next to Judith, or if Carol was watching Judith, she would go find Maggie. Beth wondered if Daryl ever had nightmares too. Daryl was always out on beyond the gates and in the middle of the violence, surely some of the things he seen would cause even him to have bad dreams. It would be pointless to ask, she doubted he would admit to it even if he did.

"Car," Daryl said quietly. Beth looked up, almost not certain if he had said anything after the silence all day. Then, her eyes followed the railroad lines up ahead to see what had caught Daryl's eye. An old car covered in dust was sitting next to the tracks. As they got closer, it appeared to be abandoned. _With a car we would be so much safer and wouldn't have to walk anymore!_ Then, a small noise was blown into Beth's ears by the wind. She at first thought it was just her imagination, but then Daryl turned around. His eyes widened slightly at the sight and Beth quickly glanced back. Her worst fear was suddenly in front of her. Several walkers were coming around the bend in the railroad tracks and more were following. She rushed past Daryl and ran to the car. Desperately, Beth checked the gas meter, the little indicator was on the E. Beth's heart dropped. "Pop the trunk," Daryl said, he had suddenly appeared right next to her. Beth found the lever and had to yank hard because it was stuck. "Come on," Daryl said, grabbing Beth by the arm and pushing her towards the back end of the car. Beth understood Daryl's line of thought and jumped in. Daryl came in right after her and set to work securing the trunk with a piece of rope.

THUNK. Beth almost jumped out of her skin. The trunk wasn't completely closed and shadows moved across the thin stream of moonlight that came through. Daryl sat cross-legged, his crossbow pointed at the thin opening. With each thud of a walker running into the car, Beth's heart skipped a beat. Moans permeated the air and the shuffling of uncoordinated feet was all around them. She was certain any second they would be found out. The minutes slowly ticked by and the noise faded. As the adrenaline left, Beth began to notice that she was awfully close to Daryl. Their shoulders were touching and she could feel the warmth coming off of his skin. Under the smell of dirt and sweat, there was a slight hint of a nice forest smell. Beth blushed and was thankful for the darkness.

"Why don't you go ahead and get some sleep. We can stay here for tonight," Daryl said quietly, almost whispering in her ear. Beth nodded and then remembered that he couldn't see her. "Okay," she replied. Beth began trying to position herself in a way that she could fall asleep in, but there was very little room inside the trunk. There was no way she was going to be able to lay down without invading Daryl's space. Daryl seemed to realize that too. He patted his leg, indicating that she should lay her head on his thigh. Beth was hesitant at first, but then got over her embarrassment. She stretched out and put her head in Daryl's lap. At first, Beth was sure she would never fall asleep, she was way to conscious of the redneck's presence. His breath was the only sound she could hear. The only other guy's lap Beth had ever laid her head on had been her father's and Jimmy's. Beth's cheeks grew warm at that thought. _Quit being silly, you are way too young for him. You are just getting feelings because he is the only guy you have been this close to since the apocalypse_. Beth closed her eyes hard, trying to banish the thoughts in her head. It didn't take much, Beth was exhausted after their day of traveling and soon fell into unconsciousness.

Daryl's POV

Daryl stared the sliver of moonlight that came into the trunk. It had been a good day, until the run in with the walkers at the very end. Beth kept surprising him, he had expected to have to help her much more, but Beth had a strength hidden underneath that soft exterior. All day she hadn't said one word about stopping, although he could tell she had gotten tired at the end. He also appreciated that they could go the day without talking constantly. Daryl didn't know what to say to the young blonde anyway, he felt personally responsible for what had happened to her father. That was his job, to protect the group against people like the Governor. He had even tried doing the bull-shit diplomacy that Rick liked so much. He had tried to help train the new people that had brought in from Woodbury. Heck, Daryl had even helped the council come up with a plan if the Governor came, which of course he had. Men like that just don't quit. Despite all of his efforts to be a team player and defend his group, he had lost his brother, he had lost Rick, he had lost just about everyone he cared about. Daryl wanted to punch the sides of the car in frustration, but he knew that would be pointless and result in waking Beth up.

Daryl looked down at the young girl. He could barely make out her face in the darkness but she looked so peaceful in her sleep. Beth's blonde hair was in a mess and spread all over her face and his lap. Her head barely weighed anything, but he could feel the warmth of her cheek through the small tear in his jeans. Daryl couldn't help but feel protective of the petite woman. She was so innocent and sweet, everything he wasn't. Daryl didn't want to see that warm light in her eyes fade away now that she was out in the middle of the all this shit. He wondered vaguely what she had been like before the apocalypse. It was easy to picture Beth as the small town sweetheart that everyone adored. She was someone that in the past he wouldn't have been allowed within a mile of. While she would have been singing hymns in church, he would have been out drinking with Merle and getting in trouble. Merle would laugh if he could see Daryl now. Daryl could almost hear his voice. "What are you whipped? Gonna let that sweet little thang follow you around like a puppy and use you for a pillow," the invisible Merle asked. There had been a lot of things about Merle that made him unlikeable, but Merle was his brother and the one person who had been there for him as a child. Daryl remembered following Merle around the forest that was behind their house. Merle would always run faster than him and taunt him by saying that he was going to leave Daryl out in the middle of nowhere by himself. Once he grew up a bit more, Daryl wasn't scared of being in the forest by himself, he actually had come to quite enjoy it. The forest was a hell of a lot nicer than being in that trailer house with his dad drunk and raising a ruckus. _No need to drag up the childhood, it's over and that is the end of that_. Daryl determined that it had been quiet long enough for him to go to sleep as well. He leaned his head up against the side of the trunk and despite the uncomfortable position, managed to drift off.

Beth's POV

A voice was calling her, but Beth didn't want to open her eyes. She had slept last night without nightmares for the first time since she had seen her mom and brother attacked by walkers. Beth tried to go back to sleep but a hand on her shoulder insisted that she wake up. Slowly she opened her eyes only to find herself staring right into Daryl's dark blue eyes. Behind his head, the outside light shown in, giving him a halo of sorts. Beth just stared at him for a second, struck for the first time by how handsome he was. Then, Beth came back to herself and sat up, immediately embarrassed. "How early is it," she asked, more to get rid of the awkward moment they just had than out of real interest. "The sun just came up," was Daryl's reply. He began undoing the rope and lifted the hood up to reveal the sunrise. Beth nodded and reluctantly got out of the trunk, which had felt semi-safe and cozy despite the circumstances. Daryl stretched and then slung his crossbow over his shoulder. "I need a moment," Beth said, indicating indirectly that she needed to use the restroom. Daryl just nodded while Beth went behind the closest tree. When she came back, Daryl was looking ahead, obviously lost in thought. Beth came up and stood by him. After a moment, Daryl finally spoke, "There is a dirt road up ahead, why don't we follow it and see where it leads?" Beth nodded her agreement and fell into pace beside the redneck.

The road branched off, perpendicular to the railroad tracks. Beth couldn't help but be in a good mood after such a great night's sleep. Under her breath she began humming "Live like You were Dying" by Tim McGraw. It seemed strangely appropriate to the situation and music always calmed Beth's nerves. She couldn't tell if her humming bothered Daryl, but he didn't say anything so she continued with whatever song came into her head. After walking for about an hour, Daryl held up a hand and Beth became quiet. "I think we are getting close to wherever this road comes out at, we should go through the forest a bit and scope out the area before we let anyone see us," said Daryl. While going into the forest made Beth a bit nervous, she trusted Daryl's judgment completely on this particular issue. She knew it was unnecessary but she felt so hyper from a good night's rest that she couldn't help but say, "lead the way Captain!" Daryl snorted at her and headed off into the forest. Beth jogged after him, staring at the faded gold on his jacket's wings.

Daryl's POV

The pair had reached the edge of a golf course. A two story white house stood in the center of it, right out in the open. From the looks of it, the house had once been a country club. Daryl was a bit on edge because they had not seen a single walker as they snuck through the woods; their luck was too good to be true. They stood on the edge of the forest, watching for any signs of danger. Daryl couldn't detect a single motion inside of the house from where they were at. Finally, he decided that they would have to get a closer look. He pointed to the house and Beth fell in behind him as they moved closer. There was no cover on the golf course and Daryl quickly gave up trying to be inconspicuous. About halfway to the country club, moans of the dead filled the air. Daryl looked back to see group of walkers emerging from trees on their right. "Com' on," Daryl insisted, running towards the house. As soon as Beth entered the house, Daryl slams the door behind her. The walkers begin to pile up against the glass door but it seemed to be holding for the time being. After watching for a minute to make sure the door was secure, Daryl turned his attention to the room.

Beth was already moving around, inspecting the area. There were dead bodies all around the floor. Money and food laid haphazardly everywhere. The food was no longer any good, but Daryl began to pocket some of the money. While paper money might not have much of a use nowadays, Daryl had gone through enough hard times in the past to just pass up the chance now. Daryl found an empty black bag on the floor and stuffed a few wads of cash into it. Surely there was more in here than just money. Daryl began searching more when he came across the kitchen. Three walkers were hanging from the ceiling; some idiots had tried to hang themselves and unintentionally turned themselves into the living dead. Daryl rummaged through the fridge and the pantry while the walkers moaned and kicked from above him. Finding nothing that was still good, Daryl went back to the first room to find Beth staring at an open bottle of wine. _Gosh, I'm going to have to find her something to drink pretty soon, she seems to be serious about wanting to try alcohol_. "Hey," Daryl said, getting Beth's attention, she whipped around and her cheeks reddened for being caught staring so blatantly at the alcohol. He headed towards the hall to search the rest of the club and Beth soon came after him.

Beth's POV

Beth knew this might be her only chance to find a drink and she was determined to do so. She didn't want to drink the wine in the first room because it had been opened and anything could have gotten in it, like flies or zombie guts. While she wanted to try some alcohol, she wasn't desperate enough to drink something that had been sitting out for weeks. Daryl was ahead of her, scoping out a couple of rooms. A small closet to Beth's left caught her eye. She opened the door a bit to see a dead body crumpled in the corner of it. She scanned the shelves and found them mostly empty. Beth was about to close the door when she noticed a glass on the very top shelf that looked likely to contain wine. Beth glanced down at the body, which still hadn't moved. She felt nervous because she would have to get awfully close to it in order to reach the bottle. Beth considered calling Daryl, but didn't want to seem like a scaredy-cat. Plucking up all her courage, she stepped into the closet.

The body didn't move or even moan. Quickly, Beth covered the rest of the distance and thrust her hand up toward the top shelf. She couldn't quite reach, but she could feel the smooth glass on her fingertips. Standing on the tip of her toes, she stretched trying to grab the bottle. Finally, she managed to get a grip on it. Feeling triumphant, Beth marched straight out of the closet holding her newly found possession and walked straight into the hands of a walker. She felt the bony, decaying hands grab her shoulders and she screamed, trying to push it away. The sound of gnashing teeth filled her ears as it tried to take a bite out of her. Where was Daryl? Daryl wasn't appearing and she couldn't wait for him to show up or she would be a walker.

Pushing the walker away, she began to reach for the knife that was strapped to her waist, but her fingers were trembling too much to unbutton the covering. As the walker started coming for her again, Beth pulled the bottle back and swung it at the disfigured head. It reeled back from the blow and this time Beth managed to get her knife out and quickly buried it into the eye socket of the walker. Immediately, the body went limp and fell to the floor. Beth stood there with her bloody knife, staring down at the corpse. She heard a soft thud and looked up, worried that the attention had drawn more, but it was just Daryl. "Thanks for the help," she muttered. "Knew you could handle it," he said before heading back the way he had come. Beth shook her head in frustration and held back a sharp retort. This time, instead of searching on her own, she followed Daryl closely.

Daryl's POV

Daryl had heard Beth's scream and his heart had all but stopped. He had been so scared that he was going to lose the one member left in his group. Daryl was sure that he had failed to protect another person. _How did she get so far away from him, she had been there one second ago?_ He had raced through the whole house trying to find Beth, panic creeping up on him as each room was empty. Daryl had run down the hallway, only to come in at the last minute as Beth buried her knife into that walker's head. The look of determination in her eyes was something he had not seen in Beth before. He had often worried about her state of mind because she had tried to commit suicide back at the farm house, but from what he had just seen, Beth had changed. The moment he walked in, he realized that she wasn't some princess in distress, she could take care of herself and he had told her as much. The Beth that was with him now was one that would fight to live, not at all like the young scared girl who had tried to take her life a couple years ago. It made Daryl feel better to know that Beth wasn't completely dependent on him and it made him respect her more.

Daryl entered the next room and took in the scene. The place was trashed and a "Welcome to the Dogtrot" was painted on the wall. Bodies littered the room. A little further in there was a small store. Daryl began digging through the junk to find anything of value. Beth disappeared into the store and came back a bit later with a new shirt on. Daryl's attention was broken by a little gasp. He turned around to find Beth staring at a mannequin, except that it wasn't a plastic mannequin, it was a woman's corpse. On her chest was a sign that said "RICH BITCH". Beth was staring in horror at the spectacle. "Com' on Daryl, we gotta take her down," Beth said in a shaky voice. He stared at her for a second, trying to figure out how to say what he thought without sounding too mean. "What's done is done," is all he could come up with. Tears began welling up in her pretty blue eyes and she moved closer to the mannequin, obviously wanting to do something but not knowing quite how to go about it. Daryl pulled a blue tarp off a counter and handed it to her. "Cover her up," he growled. Beth smiled in gratitude and placed the plastic over the dead woman. "Next room," Daryl insisted and he walked out without checking to see if she was following.

A grandfather clock ticked in the next room, it's pendulum swinging back and forth. Golf clubs lined one wall and there were boxes full of water bottles and hats. Just as Daryl was about to open a box, a sound rang out that made his blood go cold. The grandfather clock had begun to chime, the sound resonating throughout the building. Moans of walkers being drawn by the deep bell tolls came from the door. He began to run for the opposite door, only to find it locked. "Damn it," he cursed, annoyed at their predicament. He turned around to see five walkers shambling through the door. Quickly, Daryl pulled his crossbow from behind his back and took aim. A certain concentration overtook him as he blocked everything out except for his targets. _One down, two down, three down, four down, five down_. More keep coming. Daryl took a couple more out and reached for the next bolt only to find that he was out. Looking around, Daryl grabbed the first thing that he saw, a golf club. Pulling it back, Daryl gained momentum and brought the end down on the closest walker's head. The corpse crumbled to the floor as he continued beating back the bodies. Daryl's left hand reached down to his knife and he began using it for close calls. One by one, the walkers fell until only one was left. Daryl swung the golf club, taking it out. It was over, but Daryl couldn't stop. He raised the club up again and brought it back down against the monster's head. "This is for Merle, and Rick, and Hershel, and this whole damn mess," he thought while he beat the crap out of the unmoving walker. Finally, Daryl came back to himself. He looked up to see Beth standing there, wide-eyed and with blood over her new shirt. Instantly, Daryl regretted his violent outlash. "Com' on," he said, taking her by the arm and leading her out of the room.

Beth's POV

Beth's heart was still pounding from the attack. She had been scared and felt so helpless; she knew she was lucky to be with Daryl, someone who could handle bad situations. Watching Daryl kill that last walker was a bit frightening, to see the anger and sadness in his eyes. At the same time, Beth almost wished she could do the same thing. Beth wanted to let all of her pent up emotions about her father's death and her sister's unknown fate out by killing something, even if that something was already technically dead. Beth wanted to lash out at the world for the horrible past few years she had been through. "No, that's not who you are," Beth told herself. _Daryl might be able to get stress relief from smashing in walker heads, but that isn't the person Daddy raised me to be_. Instead, Beth wanted a drink more than ever; she wanted to wash away the pain and the fear.

"Ere," Daryl grunted. Beth looked up, she hadn't been paying much attention to where he had been leading her. They were in what looked like a small bar. _This is what I have been waiting for! _Beth left Daryl's side and began digging through all the smashed and emptied bottles, looking for one that was still good. Finally, she found a bottle full of a light brown liquid that was full. Elegant golden letters spelled out "Original Peach Schnapps". Feeling like a rebel, Beth put the bottle on the table and began trying to find a clean glass.

Beth didn't even know how to begin or what her first time to drink alcohol would be like, but she was suddenly nervous. She glanced over at Daryl for support and raised the bottle. "This any good," she asked. Daryl just stared at her for a minute before simply saying "no". Beth didn't know what else to do so she continued looking for a glass. Thud! Beth jumped a tiny bit at the noise. Daryl had begun throwing darts at picture frames. He wasn't even watching her or seeming to care what she did. Thud! Another dart found a man's face. All the glasses were dirty, there didn't seem to be a single clean one in the place. Beth felt her eye's tearing up for no particular reason. The fact that she couldn't find a clean glass just reminded her of the world she lived in now. Thud! Beth didn't even glance up at Daryl. She just found a spot on the bar stool and stared at the bottle, trying not to cry. This was going to be her first time to drink alcohol and she didn't even have a clean cup. For years she had wondered what this moment would be like and what high class wine she would try. Now the day had come and here she was with some halfway decent peach drink and no glass to even drink it in. A sob escaped Beth and then the tears just came pouring down her cheeks. She gripped the bottle, trying to control her emotions but now that she had begun it was hard to stop. Suddenly, the sharp sound of boots against the floor came right up to her and Daryl's hand reached out and yanked the bottle out of her hand. There was a tinkling smash as the bottle was thrown on the ground. Daryl's strong hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her out of her seat and through the doorway. "Peach Schnapps ain't no first drink! I'm gonna find you somethin better than that crap," he said as he headed out the door and across the lawn towards the forest. "Where are we going," Beth asked in bewilderment. "You'll see," Daryl replied.

**End Note: A special thanks to my readers who are supporting my first fanfiction. I have testing this week and won't be able to work on Ch.3 much, but hope to have it up within a week or two! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello again! It took me a while to get around to this chapter because of testing last week but even once I finished testing, this was a hard chapter to write. A lot is going on that isn't being said by either character and I hope I brought that out accurately. Everything is similar to how it happened in the TV show, this time you just get a glimpse of what is going on in Beth's and Daryl's head. Enjoy!**

Beth's POV

Daryl seemed to have some destination in mind, although Beth wasn't sure how he was able to navigate through the forest, everything looked the same. Daryl suddenly started talking, something Beth wasn't used to yet. "A couple months ago, Michonne and I were out around this area lookin for supplies. As we were headin back to the prison, we came across this place." Just as Daryl finished talking, a house came into view. It wasn't a nice house like the country club they had just been at, it was more like a shack. The shack was made of wood, causing it to blend into its surroundings. Random household objects lay scattered around the yard. Beth took the sight in while Daryl headed for a shed, which had an old tire leaned up against it. He thrust the door open and it banged against the wall. Beth looked inside to see what he was doing. "Whoever lived here before all of this was real into making moonshine. This is the kinda stuff you drink for your first drink," Daryl said as he hoisted a crate of jars up off the ground. The jars were full of a clear liquid; Beth had heard of moonshine but had never actually seen it. Daryl headed into the house with Beth close behind.

There was a ratty old couch surrounded by cigarette butts and the floor was a mess. Junk was piled everywhere. From the looks of it, the place hadn't been cleaned even before the apocalypse. Daryl set the crate down on a table and began digging through the cabinets. Beth took a seat and watched him search the kitchen. Finally, he found a plastic cup and poured a little bit of the moonshine into it before sliding the cup over to her. Beth took the cup, a bit nervous about drinking the homemade concoction. She had heard before that if it was made wrong, moonshine could make a person go blind. What if the guy who had made this wasn't very good at making alcohol? "Well, go on," Daryl encouraged, standing over her. Beth's rebel side got the best of her; she raised the cup to her lips and took a gulp. A fiery liquid burned its way down her throat; she couldn't help but make a face and her eyes began to tear up a little. Her nostrils felt like they would never be stuffy again. "That is the most disgusting thing I ever tasted," Beth exclaimed. Daryl just nodded. Beth raised the cup again and finished the moonshine. It tasted horrible, but she was enjoying the thrill of doing something that was "forbidden". She was glad to take part in something almost every underage teenager had done, it made her feel like she was just a rebellious child again, back before all of this happened. She wouldn't be a teenager much longer though, sometime soon her 20th birthday would be coming up. Beth had no clue how she would know it was her birthday because although they had kept track of the date at the prison, Beth hadn't been keeping count since she and Daryl had escaped into the woods. Beth looked over at Daryl, very grateful that he was here with her.

"Is the second round any better," Beth asked Daryl hopefully as she began to pour more of the clear liquid into the cup. "Hey, slow down," Daryl cautioned. "But this one is for you," Beth said, offering him the cup. After all he had done to help her get the alcohol, surely he would want some. "Naw, I'm good," he said, refusing the drink. "Why," Beth asked, confused by his refusal. "Someone's gotta keep watch," Daryl replied. Beth found it odd that he didn't want to drink any; he didn't seem like the type to refuse a bit of alcohol. _Maybe something is bothering him_. While she had always known Daryl was responsible, it wasn't like him to miss out on the fun. "So your like what? My chaperone now," Beth asked, hoping to get Daryl to change his mind. "Naw, I just drink lots of water," Daryl said, before he walked off, looking uncomfortable in the shack. "Yes ," Beth said in the most serious tone possible. She was hoping to hit a nerve so that he would snap out of the odd mood he was suddenly in. Her efforts were in vain, Daryl didn't even grunt at her little comment.

Daryl paced around the room while Beth took sips of moonshine. The sound of his boots against the floor were going to drive her crazy. Back in high school when she had hung out with some of her more wild friends, they had occasionally gotten their hands on a bottle of vodka. Beth had never taken part in drinking it of course. She knew what her daddy would do to her if he found that she had been drinking. When Maggie had come back home drunk one time, daddy had thrown a conniption fit. Beth definitely never wanted to have Hershel angry at her like that, so even though her friends looked like they were having fun, she had never let a drop pass her lips. Beth smiled thinking back to how her friends would laugh and play silly drinking games; they had always seemed to have a good time. _That's what I'm missing, someone to drink with_. It wasn't much fun drinking by herself but from the way Daryl was acting, that was just how it was going to have to be.

Bang! Daryl had found an outlet for his nervous energy; he was hammering pieces of wood over the windows. Bang! Beth gave up drinking for the moment and began looking around the shack. Something bright pink was stashed right behind the armchair. Beth went over and pulled it out. It was a bright pink ceramic bra filled with cigarettes, both used and unused. She set it down in front of her. "Who would go into a store and walk out with this," Beth asked incredulously. Daryl turned around and glanced down at the makeshift cigarette holder. "My dad, that's who," he said. Beth hadn't expected him to give her an answer. "That dumb ass," Daryl continued, "He would set them up on top of the TV set and use them for target practice." Beth wasn't sure she had heard Daryl correctly. "He shot things inside your house," she question. "It was just a bunch of junk anyway. That's how I knew what this place was. That shed out there, my dad had a place just like this. You got your dumpster chair," Daryl motioned to the dirty armchair, " that's for sittin in your drawers all summer drinkin. Got your fancy buckets, that's for spittin chaw in after your old lady tells you to stop smokin." Beth had never heard Daryl talk so much before. Then, he reached over and grabbed a newspaper off the TV. "You got your internet," he said, holding the paper out before dropping it on the floor.

Suddenly, Daryl stopped talking and held up a finger at her, warning Beth to stay quiet. He peered out the crack in the window. The moan of a walker could be heard just outside. Daryl turned back toward Beth and reported that there was just one of them. Beth hated how those walkers always turned up, you couldn't go anywhere without one of them appearing. "Should we take care of it," Beth asked. "If it keeps making too much noise, yeah," Daryl said, not appearing too concerned. Beth admired Daryl's courage. _You have to be strong in this world_. "Well," Beth said, "if we are going to be trapped again, we might as well make the best of it." She picked up a bottle of moonshine and held it out to him. "Unless your too busy chaperoning Mr. Dixon," she said, half joking and half serious. "Hell," Daryl said, taking the jar from her. Beth smiled as he opened it up and took a sip. "Not half bad," he commented as he took a seat in the armchair. Beth retrieved her cup and took a seat on the floor by the little coffee table in front of Daryl. They sat there for a while, just drinking in silence.

Finally, Beth couldn't take it anymore. "Do you want to play a game," she asked. Daryl raised one eyebrow at her. "Please," she begged, "it's real easy." Daryl slid off the armchair and onto the floor across from her. Beth took that as a yes. "Okay," she began, "It's called Never Have I Ever." "What kind of game is that," Daryl asked. Beth was surprised, she was pretty sure it was a common drinking game. "Well," Beth explained, "I say something I have never done and if you have done it, you drink. If you haven't, then I drink. Then, we switch." Daryl didn't say anything, but just sat there staring at her. He seemed to be wondering why he had left the armchair. "You really don't know this game," Beth asked, trying to draw Daryl out of his reclusive state. "I ain't never needed a game to get lit before," Daryl replied. Beth didn't know if he was joking or had already caught on to the game. "Wait. Are we starting," Beth asked. Daryl didn't answer her question, instead he just replied with another question. "How do you know this game," he asked, sounding a lot like a parent. "My friends played it," Beth replied, "I watched." _This isn't getting anywhere_. Beth decided she would have to take the first step.

"Okay," Beth said, "I will start." She racked her brains and came up with the most obvious example. "I have never shot a crossbow," Beth stated. Daryl just stared at her with those deep blue eyes of his. "So now you drink," Beth urged. Daryl raised the jar to his lips and took a sip. "Not much of a game," he commented. Beth resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "That was a warm-up," Beth retorted, "Now you go." Daryl raised his fingertips to his lips, a habit she had noticed he did when he was a bit nervous and thinking hard on something. "Uh, I don't know," Daryl mumbled. "Just say the first thing that pops into your head," she encouraged. "I never been out of Georgia," Daryl finally said. "Really," Beth said, a bit surprised but glad that he was finally playing. Daryl just stared at her, not seeming to be all that into the game. "Okay, good one," Beth said as she took a drink. "I've never…," she started. After thinking a while, Beth came up with one. "I've never been drunk and done something I regretted," Beth said. Daryl took a drink as she had expected. "I've done a lot of things," he said. Beth hadn't expected the extra-commentary. She had heard from Maggie and daddy that Daryl hadn't grown up in the best family and was rough around the edges. From what he has said earlier, he had grown up in a place very similar to what they were in now. Beth couldn't imagine growing up here and she couldn't picture Daryl as a kid. Despite a tough upbringing, Daryl had turned out pretty well from what Beth could tell. "Just what has he done that he regrets," Beth wondered. The thought slipped away, her brain was starting to feel a little fuzzy. "Your turn," Beth stated, determined to keep the game going. Daryl scratched his chin and sat in silence for a while. "I've never been on vacation," he said. Beth couldn't imagine someone going their whole life without a single vacation. "What about camping," Beth asked. Camping seemed like something even Daryl and his brother, Merle, would have done. Daryl had all the skills that came with camping outside a lot. "No, that's just sumthin I had to learn, huntin as well," Daryl replied. "Did your dad teach you," Beth asked, curious about the redneck's past and a bit more forward because of the alcohol. Daryl stared Beth down with his dark blue eyes and didn't reply. It was obvious that he wasn't going to answer the question. "Okay," Beth shrugged her shoulders and took a drink.

Daryl's POV

Daryl should have never begun playing this game with Beth. He didn't like drinking, he hated people who drank, although he had done so himself a number of times. Especially, he didn't like where the conversation was heading. Anything he said just made Beth curious and he didn't feel like talking about his past. He watched her as she drank more of the moonshine. _Why did I ever agree to get her some alcohol_? Daryl was sure that Hershel would have killed him if he were around to see what Daryl was letting his precious daughter do. The thought of Hershel's death caused a knot to form in Daryl's stomach. "I've never..," Beth continued. Daryl turned his attention back to the present moment, trying to forget the attack by the Governor. The alcohol wasn't making it any easier for him to forget his emotions. "…been in jail," Beth finished, looking up at him with those sweet doe-like eyes of hers. Daryl felt his heart harden. Ever since he had been a kid, people always just saw him as white trash. Of course, even sweet Beth would assume he was some kind of criminal. "I mean, as a prisoner," Beth clarified.

Daryl's fist clenched. After all he had done during the apocalypse, he couldn't escape his past. After all the times he brought food back and saved people's lives, he just didn't fit in with them. "Is that what you think of me," Daryl said quietly to Beth, hurt by her assumption. Not that he could blame her, Daryl was sure that Hershel and Maggie had told her that he was trouble and all other sorts of things. The fact that Beth believed them though, the sweet girl who seemed to see the best in everyone, made him feel like trash. Daryl drank a bit more of the moonshine, knowing that he should stop. "I didn't mean anything serious," Beth exclaimed, trying to backtrack. "It could just be for drinking too much, even my dad got in trouble for that, back in the day," she said, trying to take back the insult. "Drink up," Daryl said, trying to control his emotions. "Wait," Beth said, "prison guard? Were you a prison guard before?" Daryl took another swig of moonshine. "No," he said, his annoyance increasing. Before all of this, Daryl had been a piece of shit, wandering around with Merle and getting kicked out of bars. What could Beth possibly ever understand about his past, only Merle did and Merle was gone. Daryl could feel the anger rise up in him, but the Governor was dead and he had no one to take it out on.

"It's your turn," Beth said, pulling Daryl's attention back. Daryl was through with this game, he stood up, not sure what he was doing but letting his emotions guide him. He stomped throughout the shack and decided that he needed the restroom. "You need to be quiet," Beth cautioned him in a worried voice. Instead of going to the bathroom or paying attention to Beth's warning, he unzipped his pants and just began peeing right in the kitchen. "I can't hear you," Daryl shouted, "I'm takin a piss!" He knew he was being unreasonable, the moonshine had done its job and everything seemed far away and irrelevant. "Daryl! Don't be so loud," came Beth's voice from the living room. Although Beth hadn't meant anything by her earlier comment about jail, Daryl was mad at her for bringing it up, because it brought up all the past prejudices people had against him since he was a kid. "Wut? You my chaperone now," Daryl asked, turning Beth's earlier words on her. She turned away from him, not sure how to respond. Daryl zipped up his pants and suddenly started talking without even knowing what he was saying.

"Oh wait, it's my turn, right," he started, "I never, uh, I never eaten frozen yogurt." Daryl suddenly couldn't stand seeing Beth standing there. He knew he was being unreasonable, but at that moment, she was all those people who had ever called him trash, all those people who had ever looked down on him, all those people who had a nice family and couldn't understand his life. She was all those people and more. Daryl hated letting people get close but he had begun to actually care for Beth because she was the one person left in his group and even she thought he was some lowlife. The harsh words rose up from his lips, "I've never had a pet pony. I never got nothin from Santa Claus!" Daryl pushed over the closest chair, trying to get his anger out. "Never relied on anyone for protection before," Daryl continued, "Ha! I've never relied on anyone for anything!" "Daryl," Beth interrupted, trying to calm him. Her eyes were wide and he hated the scared look on her face but he just couldn't stop. "Never sung out in front of a big group in public like everything was fun, like everything was a big game," he said, remembering the time Hershel had Beth sing for everyone after they had gotten into the prison. "I sure as hell never cut my wrists lookin for attention," Daryl yelled while motioning at his own wrist. Beth stared at him, she didn't move or say anything.

Before Daryl could begin to even think that he had gone to far, he heard a growl from outside the window. Suddenly, the walker's very existence had him pissed off. Walkers are what had taken his brother, what had almost killed him multiple times. _That son of a bitch_! He wasn't going to let this one hang around, he hated all of them. He kicked some of the random junk in the room and it let out a satisfying clang. "Sounds like our friend could use some arrows in his butt," Daryl yelled, sick of all the walkers and all the death. "Shut up," Beth half whispered. Suddenly, an idea came to Daryl. He whipped around towards Beth. "Have you never shot a crossbow before," he demanded, still using the game reference. Beth shook her head warily. "I'm gonna teach you right now," Daryl proclaimed, grabbing Beth by the arm and pulling her up off the floor. She needed to learn how to protect herself and what better time than when there was only a single walker outside. "Com'on, let's go have fun," Daryl slurred as he dragged her towards the door. Beth pulled against him, but it was easy for him to drag her along. "No Daryl," Beth yelled, "We need to stay inside!" She kept yelling his name as he dragged her down the stairs.

Daryl spotted the walker, which was still right under the window where he had last seen it. "Dumbass," Daryl said to the walker. "Com' ere, Dumbass," he yelled, getting the walker's attention. The horrid creature turned around and headed towards them. Daryl lifted his crossbow and quickly shot a bolt through its stomach, pinning the walker to the telephone pole behind it. _Perfect_.

Beth was still saying his name, trying to talk some sense into him. "Here, you want to shoot," Daryl said, already lifting the crossbow strap over his head. _This is what Beth needs to learn. My old man never taught me anything but I'm going to teach Beth to survive; she isn't going to end up like Merle_. "I don't know how," Beth protested, moving back a bit. "Com' ere," Daryl said, grabbing Beth and pulling her into him. "It's easy," He explained as he brought the crossbow up so she could see how it worked. Daryl released the bolt and it sailed into the walker's side. He let Beth go while he reloaded the crossbow. "Let's practice later," Beth begged. "No," he yelled, "this is fun." He had never had anyone to teach him how to survive, but Beth needed to be taught. "Just stop it," she said. He didn't look up. "Daryl," Beth said, her voice rising with distress. Daryl finished loading the crossbow and grabbed Beth again, trying to show her how to release the bolt. "Just kill it," Beth pleaded. Daryl was out of bolts. "Com' ere Greene, lets pull these out and get some more target practice," he said, heading toward the moving corpse. Suddenly, Beth came from his left and stabbed the walker in the head with that knife of hers. "What the hell you do that for, we was havin fun," Daryl demanded.

Beth whipped around and there was fury in her eyes. "No," she yelled, "You were being a jackass!" Stray hairs had come out from her ponytail and were surrounding her face. "If anyone had found my dad…," she began. "Don't," Daryl cut in. He didn't want Beth feeling pity for these creatures, pity could get a person killed in this world. "Not even remotely the same," He said, getting up into her face and trying to make her understand. Daryl didn't want Beth dying like everyone else, but if she was going to treat them like the humans they had been, she didn't stand a chance. "Killing them is not supposed to be fun," she retorted. "What do you want from me girl," Daryl said, getting even closer. Beth lowered her eyes, Daryl could tell he was making her uncomfortable, but he couldn't stop himself. "Hunh," he said when she didn't respond. Finally, she looked up at him with those big beautiful blue eyes of hers. "I want you to stop actin like you don't give a crap about anything," she said bluntly, "like nothing we went through matters, like all the people we lost didn't mean anything to you." Daryl stepped back in surprise. How could Beth not see how much he cared, how much guilt he felt every day for what happened at the prison? "Is that what you think," Daryl asked. First, Beth accused him of being a criminal and now she was saying he didn't care about their group dying. "That's what I know," she said, looking unreasonable and distraught. Daryl wasn't about to let some girl half his age tell him he didn't care about their group after he had fought for them and fed them and protected them for years. "You don't know nothin," he replied. "I know you just look at me and see another dead girl," Beth countered. She didn't stop there though. "I'm not Michonne, I'm not Carol, I'm not Maggie," she began, "I survived and you don't get it cuz I'm not like you or them, but I made it! And you don't need to treat me like crap just because your afraid!" Beth spit out that last part.

Daryl knew Beth was drunk but what she was saying bothered him. "I ain't afraid of nothin," he hissed getting in her face again, daring her to say something. "I remember when that little girl came out of the barn, after my mom," Beth answered, "you were like me. And now God forbid you ever let anybody get too close." Daryl didn't want to hear this, Carol's daughter was just another person he had failed. He didn't need this Beth talking about her like she knew the situation. Beth didn't know anything about him and he wanted her to leave him alone. He knew he was going to say something mean, but he couldn't stop himself. He just wanted Beth to leave and quit bringing up all the bad memories. "To close, hunh, you know all about that," he said, pointed his finger at Beth. "You lost two boyfriends and you can't even she a tear," he accused. "Your whole family is gone," Daryl continued, "and you can't even shed a tear. All you can do is go out looking for booze like some dumb old college bitch!" Daryl knew better than to actually believe what he was saying but he wanted to make Beth feel the same hurt she was causing him to feel. "Screw you, you don't even get it," Beth said to him.

Daryl saw red, he couldn't believe that Beth thought he was so heartless as to not understand losing family. "No, you don't get it," Daryl yelled, "everyone we know is dead!" Beth's face suddenly changed, like she had been slapped. "We don't know that," she screamed. Something in Daryl just snapped. "They might as well be, cuz your never gonna see them again," Daryl shouted. Beth didn't reply this time. She stood there, her shoulders heaving. "You ain't ever gonna see Maggie again," Daryl insisted. "Daryl just stop," Beth pleaded as she reached for his arm. "NO," Daryl hollered, yanking his arm away from her hand. The emotions and memories that he had tried to keep down were coming up. He was the reason she wasn't going to see her family, he was the reason Beth wasn't safe inside the prison with her father. "The governor walked right up to our gates," Daryl said, seeing the image clearly in his mind. "Maybe if I wouldn't have stopped lookin," Daryl continued, "maybe cuz I gave up, that's on me!" He had finally said it, the truth was out in the open. "Daryl," Beth interrupted, but he shrugged her off. Daryl could feel the tears coming. "And your dad," Daryl said while glancing back at the young girl who was without both of her parents now. "Maybe I could have done something," Daryl said. The guilt threatened to overwhelm him.

Suddenly, small strong arms wrapped around his waist and he could feel Beth hugging him from behind. Her hair tickled the back of his neck. Daryl tried to gain control over himself but everything just came flooding back, all the death and all the disappointment. A tear slipped from his eye and suddenly he was sobbing. Beth tightened her arms around his waist and put her head on his shoulder. Daryl let himself be held until all of the tears ran out. Beth just held him, waiting patiently for him to finish. Finally, Daryl quit and the two of them just stood there. Birds chirped up in the trees and the leaves made sound as the wind moved them. Daryl put a hand on Beth's arms, which were holding him together. Slowly, Daryl's breathing began to calm down and the buzz from the moonshine wore off. Beth unwound her arms, which left Daryl feeling strangely empty. "Com'on," Beth encouraged, taking his hand and leading him back towards the house. Daryl obediently followed, too tired and emotionally worn out to argue. He looked down at the little white hand holding his big rough one. He gave Beth's hand a squeeze, he didn't want to let go. "It's gonna be alright," Beth said in a soothing tone as they entered the shack. Despite the apocalypse, despite the death, despite everything, Daryl believed her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello again. It has taken me awhile to post this chapter because I haven't had internet access. Daryl and Beth are such fun characters to write about and I really enjoyed going into their past a bit, I hope you enjoy! **

Beth's POV

The crickets chirped from out in the woods. There wasn't a single moan of a walker, making the night seem almost peaceful. Both Daryl and Beth were emotionally worn out after their fight earlier in the day and Daryl's breakdown. Beth glanced over at Daryl, who sat opposite to her on the porch. He was staring off into the darkness, the slight wind was causing his long hair to fall into his face. Beth couldn't help but notice that Daryl was very attractive, if she were ten years older, maybe she would have had a chance with him. As it was, Beth was very happy just to be there with him. _Daryl is a good guy_. Beth had always known that, but after watching him breakdown today, she realized just how much he cared about her and everyone in the group. Beth reached down and picked up the jar of moonshine at her side. After a quick drink, Beth set it back down. Daryl quit staring out at the woods and started fidgeting with his knife, sticking it into the boards of the porch and twisting it around. Beth could tell he was a little bit uncomfortable after her seeing him cry. Beth wished she could tell him that seeing him like that didn't make her think any less of him, but she doubted he would believe it. The way Daryl had been raised, he had been taught to think that tears were weakness, for pussies. Beth had also gotten a lot of inside into his life when he had gone on his rant and she doubted that most people knew as much about Daryl as she did now. Daryl wasn't making eye contact and Beth imagined that he regretted showing so much of his past life and feelings while he was drunk. Beth wondered if her father had done similar things when he had gotten drunk. Hershel had quit drinking soon after Beth was born, only Maggie really remembered it, but she never talked about any of the incidences.

"I can see why my father stopped drinking," Beth said as she thought back on their crazy evening. Daryl glanced up and looked straight into her eyes for the first time since they had come to sit on the porch. "But I wish I could feel like this all the time," Beth added, enjoying the buzz in her head and her lack of worry and fear. "You're lucky you are a happy drunk," Daryl replied. Beth's hands clinched a little, remembering all the things Daryl had yelled at her. Then she unwound them, when she recollected some of what she had had yelled back. "Yeah," Beth answered, "real lucky. Some people can be real jerks when they drink." Beth smiled to show Daryl that there were no hard feelings, they had both said things they didn't mean. Daryl started using the knife on the wooden railing in front of him. Beth could tell he felt bad about what he had said to her earlier. Finally, in a gruff voice he said, "Yeah, I'm a dick when I'm drunk." He looked up at Beth and she felt that he was apologizing in the only way he knew how. She nodded at him and the tension between them suddenly cleared.

For a while, Daryl just picked at the wood with his knife. His biceps flexed with each jab, he had amazing arms. Beth shook her head; the moonshine must be getting to her. Suddenly, Daryl began talking. "Merle had this group of guys he hung out with. One was this little white guy called Tweeker. One day, we were over at his house. It wasn't even noon yet and we were all wasted, Merle was high." Daryl hung his head and suddenly found the porch floor very interesting. Beth could tell he wasn't used to telling people stories from his past and she even detected a bit of shame in his voice, as if he expected her to judge him. Instead of saying anything, she just moved a bit closer to Daryl and waited for him to finish. Daryl looked out at the woods, not really seeing it but lost in his past "We were watchin this show," he continued, "Merle was talkin all this dumb stuff about it. He wouldn't let up, Merle never could. Turns out, it was this Tweeker kid's favorite show and he had never seen this one episode before, so he punches Merle in the face." Daryl looked up at Beth with those bright blue eyes of his. Beth understood that he was trying to make up for getting angry earlier when she had asked about his past, but there was also something else in his story. Daryl was showing a part of his past as a way of showing that he trusted her. Never in her life would Beth have imagined that she would sit on a porch drinking and listening to the toughest man she knew open up to her. "So I started hitting the Tweeker, hard, hard as I can," Daryl said, making punching movements with his left arm. Beth tried not to smile as he began getting into the story. "Then," Daryl told Beth, "he pulls a gun and sticks it right here." Daryl points at his head and Beth couldn't help but think about how different their childhoods must have been. Daryl resumed the story, "He says 'I'm gonna kill you bitch.' So Merle pulls his gun on him. Everyone's yellin, I'm yellin. Thought I was dead, over a dumb cartoon about a talkin dog." Daryl quit talking and looked down at the ground. Beth couldn't hold her curiosity in. "How did you get out of it," she asked. Daryl glanced back up at her and seemed to debate finishing the story. "Well, the Tweeker punched me in the gut," Daryl said, "I puked. They both started laughin and forgot all about it." Beth didn't know what to say about Daryl's story. She was glad he had shared such an intimate detail about himself but it was also so different from how she grew up that she didn't even know how to reply.

Suddenly, Daryl's head snapped straight up and he looked at Beth. "Do you really want to know where I was before all of this," he asked. Beth didn't say anything, Daryl wasn't really asking, he knew that Beth was curious. "I was just drifting around with Merle," he admitted, "doing whatever he said we were going to be doing that day…..Nobody, nothin. A big red neck asshole with an even bigger redneck asshole for a brother." Beth hated the self-loathing in Daryl's voice. She also knew that despite how he talked about Merle, Daryl loved his brother. There was no other reason why Daryl would have followed Merle everywhere, Daryl was smart enough to not do things for no reason. "You miss him, don't you," Beth said gently, "I miss Maggie. I miss her bossing me around." Beth laughed, thinking of how different Merle and Maggie were. Both Beth and Daryl were younger siblings. "I miss my big brother, Shawn," Beth continued, "he was so annoying and over protective." She had always been close to Shawn and when she had started becoming interested in boys, Shawn had freaked out almost as much as Hershel had. The thought of Hershel made Beth's throat tighten. "And my dad," Beth managed to finish. Daryl hung his head a tiny bit at the last name. Beth kept talking though, because it felt good to finally say what she was actually feeling rather than try and keep on a tough face for the group.

"I thought, I mean, I had hoped he would just live the rest of his life in peace," Beth admitted. So much had changed in the past week, everything Beth had dreamed of was now impossible. Beth needed to talk about it and Daryl was a good listener. He seemed much more comfortable listening to her than telling about his own past. "I thought Maggie and Glenn would have a baby," Beth continued, rattling off all the silly fantasies she had. Beth had been so happy to see Maggie fall in love with Glenn. Although Maggie had tried not to show it, she had often been distant ever since her mom died. Beth hadn't seen her so happy and full of life until the day Glenn walked through the door. It was a miracle that Maggie had found someone in the middle of the world ending. Beth had hoped that someday she would as well, but the longer she lived, the less she believed that she would. Beth had always wanted to be a mother, but she would have been content being the aunt of Maggie's kids. "And he would get to be a grandpa," Beth said, thinking of the future that could have been. "We could have had birthdays and holidays and summer picnics," Beth continued, realizing how far her dreams were from the truth. "Eventually, he would get really old and it would happen, but it would be quiet," Beth said while trying to hold back her tears. Finally, Beth felt ready to finish, "He would surround by people who cared about him, the people he loved." She had finally said it, Beth had finally told someone all of her silly dreams that would never come true. In need of comfort, Beth reached for the moonshine once more and took a sip. "That's how incredibly stupid I am," she told Daryl, before taking another gulp, trying to drown the pain in her heart.

Daryl's POV

Daryl watched Beth as she fidgeted uncomfortably. Her eyes seemed shiny, like she was about to start crying. He had told Beth his story and she had just accepted it, she had accepted him as he was, an asshole redneck who hung out with the wrong crowd. To have someone just listen without making judgments was something Daryl had wanted for a long time, and Beth had done that for him. Then, she had told him about her dreams for her family. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about Maggie and Hershel made Daryl wonder what it would have been like if he had had a normal family. As Beth had gone on about birthdays and holidays, Daryl could only think about how pure and innocent she was. Despite all they had been through, Beth could still hope and dream, that was something Daryl had given up on long before the apocalypse. Her last statement still rang in his ears, her saying how stupid she was for dreaming. Daryl wished someone had been around to stop him from thinking the very same thing as a child. Beth sat across from him, holding onto the jar of moonshine like it was a life-preserver.

"That's how it should have been," Daryl said, referring to all of Beth's dreams for her family. He wanted to comfort her more, but Daryl didn't know how, he wasn't an expert at family, far from it actually. She looked over at him with sad eyes and said, "I wish I could just…change." Daryl was surprised. Sure, Beth wasn't the best fighter, but she had grown a lot stronger since the day he had first seen her on Hershel's farm. A couple of years ago, Beth wouldn't have been able to kill a walker or handle her father's death. "You did," Daryl told her. He wished he could tell her more. Daryl didn't want Beth to change; he liked the innocent way she always believed that things would work out. "Not like you," Beth replied, "It's like you were made for the way things are now." Daryl snorted in reply. Since when had he become a role model? The way Daryl had been raised and lived made him perfect for the world they were living in, but that didn't make him a good person, that didn't even make him decent. Yet, there was Beth staring at him like he was some superhero. _Only in a shitty world like this_.

"I'm just used to how things are, used to things being ugly," Daryl said, brushing off the compliment. He didn't deserve it, he wasn't the kind of person Beth thought he was. "I grew up in a place like this," he said, indicating his miserable childhood. The shack was so similar to his home that he half expected his paw to come out the door any second, red in the face and yelling at Daryl to get his ass inside. "But you got away from it," Beth insisted. He glanced around at the place that was almost exactly like his father's trailer, he could still hear his parent arguing in the middle of the night. "I haven't," he told Beth. "You have," she replied sternly. He obviously wasn't going to change her mind. Daryl wished he could be everything Beth seemed to think he was, but he just wasn't. "Maybe you just gotta keep on reminding me sometimes," Daryl said, trying to pacify her. "No," she instantly retorted, "You can't depend on anyone for anything, right?" Daryl tensed, she wasn't going to let the issue drop. "I will be gone someday," Beth continued. "Stop," Daryl said, he didn't like Beth talking like that. She was the only person he had left after the attack on the prison. Daryl didn't know if he could handle losing anyone more people. "I will," Beth said without a trace of doubt, "You're going to be the last man standing." Beth's absolute faith in him made Daryl feel uncomfortable, it wasn't often that he got compliments and this one wasn't the most cheerful one either. Never in his life had Daryl had anyone expect anything from him until the outbreak happened. Even then, people just expected him to do average stuff, hunting and fighting, the stuff he had always done. Half the time, even after helping out, Daryl would receive wary glances from the Woodbury folks or even from Hershel. Despite everything he had done, Daryl had always felt like those around him didn't approve. Yet, here was Beth who was telling him that not only was he a good survivor, but that he was a good person. "You're going to miss me so bad when I'm gone Daryl Dixon," Beth stated with a dreamy look in her eyes. Daryl felt as if a slab of concrete had been planted in his gut, he didn't like the sound of how Beth was talking at all. "You aren't a happy drunk, are you," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah, I'm happy, I'm just not blind," Beth declared.

Beth looked Daryl straight in the eyes and he couldn't tear his gaze away. "You gotta state who you are, not who you were," Beth instructed him, "places like this, you gotta put it away." Daryl stayed quiet for a minute. He could see his pa's house burning in his mind; he could hear the fire trucks as they came. Daryl could hear the kids at school whispering about how his mother had burned their house down, how she didn't make it out. "That what she gets for doing something crazy like that," they had said, which made Daryl punch them right in the face. Merle hadn't been around when it happened, he had gone off drinking at the coast with some of his buddies. Three weeks after his mom died, his pa had sat in his armchair and drowned his sorrows in beer. He started yelling at a picture of his wife, mad that she had left him. His pa had stomped all around their replacement trailer house and begun throwing bottles at the wall, knocking his mom's picture to the floor. Daryl had known it was time to leave so he had headed for the screen door, prepared to sleep outside that night. He never made it that far though. When Daryl was halfway across the living room, pa's gaze had landed on him. He could still see those brown bloodshot eyes staring him down. "You worthless piece of crap," the man had yelled, "you got that bitch's eyes." Daryl had backed away toward the door, but his pa was fast. No one lived nearby to hear Daryl's screams. Daryl had passed out midway through and woke up the next morning covered in blood.

After that, he has spent most of his time living out in the woods, until Merle came home. Merle was shocked enough by their mother's death that Daryl didn't bother telling him what had happened. Daryl's scars tightened at the memory. "What if you can't," Daryl asked Beth. "You have to," Beth replied without hesitation, "or it kills you." She brought her hand up over her heart. "In here," she whispered. Daryl stared at Beth, her words running around in his head. "We should go inside," he finally said. Beth didn't make a sound, so he glanced over at her. She was wearing a small grin on her face and there was a light in her eyes that hadn't been there since her father died. "We should burn it down," Beth suggested, her smirk turning into a full blown smile and she started giggling. Daryl looked up at the shack, his mother had apparently thought along the same lines as Beth. He looked back at her and her goofy smile. Daryl would never know if it was the alcohol or that smile that made him get up and take the jar of moonshine from her, but the next thing he knew, he was flinging it's contents against the wall. "We are going to need more booze," he told Beth, the corners of his mouth twisting up a bit.

Beth's POV

Beth headed after Daryl, he was already grabbing jars of moonshine from the crate and emptying them onto the floor. Beth took one and began emptying the contents onto the wall. Daryl walked past her as he was heading toward the living room. As he brushed by her shoulder, he flicked his fingers at Beth, causing moonshine to fly onto her face. "Hey," Beth protested. He just smiled with the corner of his mouth and began throwing the jars onto the floor. The tinkling of glass filled the air, the noise was sure to draw walkers, but that wasn't as important as what they were doing. Beth poured some alcohol on the couch, making sure the nasty furniture was drenched.

Finally, they ran out of fuel, so Beth began gathering up their stuff. Daryl picked up his bow and backpack before they headed outside. Daryl dug around and pulled out a wad of cash that he had taken from the country club. "You wanna," Daryl said, offering Beth some matches. Beth couldn't help but smile. "Hell ya," she said, allowing her language to slip in the excitement of the moment. She pulled out a match and struck it against the box. A thin flame appeared on the end, which Daryl put the money over. Soon, the paper had caught fire. In one graceful motion, Daryl tossed the burning cash into the shack, where it immediately began to spread. Flames leaped up at walls of the shack and ran across the porch. Heat began radiating from the fire, so Daryl and Beth retreated farther away. When Beth looked back again, the whole front of the house was on fire. On whim, Beth stuck up her middle finger, something she would have never done in her past life, but things were different now. She glanced over at Daryl and caught him staring at her. Beth nudged him with her hand. After a moment, Daryl put his middle finger up too.

The both just stood there and watched the house burn, until a couple of walkers showed up. Daryl put his arm on Beth's back and pushed her toward the forest. It's time to go. Beth turned and started walking, feeling safe with Daryl by her side. What they had just done, it didn't make any logical sense. They could have had a good night's sleep without worrying about walkers, rather than wandering around without shelter at night, but that wasn't the point. They had burned the shack because it stood for everything that had hurt them. For Beth it was the governor, it was the walkers, it was everything that had happened to her in the past few years. For Daryl, it was all of that and much more. Beth looked up to catch a smug look on Daryl's face and she knew that burning the shack down was just what he had needed.

**I hope to have the next chapter up fairly soon as long as I have internet access. A special thanks to all my readers who are supporting my first fanfiction, ya'll are awesome!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I was able to write more than usual with all the free time from the Easter holidays, so this chapter has come out fairly soon after the previous one. Personally, this is one of my favorite chapters so far. I enjoyed building the relationship between Daryl and Beth, they are so adorable. Enjoy!**

Beth's POV

Before Beth even opened her eyes, the pain came to her. Her head felt like it was going to split open. She sat up, clutching her temples and trying to make the ache go away. A deep chuckle came from nearby. Beth looked over to see Daryl smiling at her. "You wanted to drink alcohol," he reminded her. Beth made a face at him. "There is a creek nearby," Daryl said, "I'm going to go wash up, try not to kneel over and die before I get back." Beth curled back up and watched as Daryl's boots disappeared from view. She lay there rubbing her head, trying to make it feel better.

While Beth waited for Daryl to return, she began thinking back to burning the shack last night. Things had been a bit crazy yesterday, but Beth certainly didn't regret anything. Not only did she feel better emotionally, she had also grown closer to Daryl. Beth's head was starting to feel a little better, the hangover was wearing off. Instead of sitting up, Beth laid on the ground and replayed every drunken moment in her head. She saw Daryl crying as she hugged him outside of the shack and she replayed his smirk as he had flung moonshine onto the walls. Beth was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice the crunch of twigs behind her. Suddenly, a cascade of water came pouring down over her head. "What the…," Beth sputtered. She spun around to find Daryl standing over her with a now empty canteen in his hand. His wet hair was pasted against his face and he had on a different shirt. "Your turn to take a bath Sunshine," Daryl said. "You could have just said so instead of pouring water on me," Beth managed to say. Daryl smirked. "That wouldn't have been nearly as fun," he replied, "besides, water is good for a hangover." If Beth didn't know better, she would have thought he was flirting with her. Her cheeks burned at the thought of the older man having any interest in her and Beth turned her head away so that Daryl couldn't see. _Don't even go there girl, he doesn't mean nothin by it_. Beth stood up and asked which way the creek way. Daryl pointed the way and told her to holler if she ran into any trouble.

As Beth walked down to the creek, she pondered over Daryl's playfulness. It wasn't often that you would catch the redneck in such a good mood, burning the shack down must have made him feel good. Beth smiled, she was happy that she could help Daryl after all he did for her. The creek wasn't too far away and soon Beth found herself on the bank. Skinny dipping was something her and Maggie used to do when Hershel and her brother were gone from the farm. They would go out to the lake at the edge of their property and play around for hours. Sometimes, the dogs would join them and they would all splash around until they were tired out. Beth undressed and stepped into the water, it was cool but not too cold. She didn't have any soap or shampoo, but it felt good to rinse off the accumulation of moonshine, sweat, blood, and dirt.

After she finished, Beth got out and went to put her clothes back on. She stopped when she saw how nasty they looked. Her yellow T-shirt was covered in blood and reeked of alcohol. She couldn't bring herself to put the clothes back on when they were so revolting smelling. Beth picked up her garments and washed them off the best she could, but the blood stains were not likely to come out. Once she finished, Beth hung them over a nearby tree branch and swam in the river for a while. It was the beginning of summer and water was full of life. Little minnows nibbled at her feet and dragonflies buzzed in the air. The atmosphere was very relaxing until Beth heard the rustle of a bush. Images flashed through her head of walkers showing up and her having to run naked through the forest to get away from them. Beth immediately got out of the creek and put her clothes back on, even though they were still fairly wet.

She headed back the way she had come and soon found Daryl sitting with his back against a tree trunk. He was sharpening the end of his bolts. Beth sat down near him and watched him work. He was completely focused on the task at hand and didn't even glance over at Beth. Her eyes took in his semi-dry hair and his scraggly facial hair. Then, Beth's gaze lowered to Daryl's arms. Each muscle moved fluidly as Daryl worked on his bolts. Finally, her eyes rested on the bolts. "Do you think you could teach me to shoot," Beth asked. Daryl looked up at her. "Can you even pull the string back far enough back," he questioned. "Well, I won't ever know if you don't let me try," Beth retorted. Daryl lifted an eyebrow but passed his crossbow over. Beth arm's sagged under the weight. _How does Daryl run all around if his weapon weights about ten pounds?_ "First thing you do is fit the end of the bolt into the rope, then pull back until it catches," Daryl instructed. Beth set the end of the bolt onto the thin rope and began trying to pull it back. Beth's arms ached with every inch but she was determined to prove her strength to Daryl. Finally, the crossbow caught and Beth sighed with relief. "Barely," Daryl commented. "So you will teach me," Beth inquired. "I guess it couldn't hurt," Daryl said, "but if you are ever in a real situation, you will be dead before you can even notch the bolt." Beth bristled at his comment. "Well, this was my first time to ever do it," she replied, "I will get better with practice." Daryl held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, don't get ur panties in a twist," he said.

"Follow me," Daryl told Beth, before he headed off into the woods. Beth ran after him, trying to carry the crossbow and keep up. They didn't go far, Daryl stopped in front of a big oak tree. He took his carving knife out and made a circular line in the middle of the tree. "Okay, so just aim for the center," Daryl said. Beth had to put the front of the crossbow on the ground and pull with all of her strength to notch the bolt. She picked the heavy weapon back up, unsure of how to even fire it. Daryl walked over and began instructing her on the use of his crossbow. "Okay, you are going to look down the center at your target and going to push this little metal piece that holds the rope down so that the bolt is released," Daryl drilled. Beth nodded and looked down the end of the crossbow at the circle in the tree trunk. After a few adjustments, Beth pushed down on the metal release and the bolt fired away from her with a quiet hiss. The bolt planted itself firmly in the tree about two feet below the circle. "Not bad for your first time," Daryl encouraged, "try again." Beth raised the crossbow up once more and the results were similar.

After Daryl had Beth try multiple times, she still hadn't hit the circle. Beth retrieved the bolts. Her arms groaned in protest with every movement, she almost regretted asking Daryl for the lesson but she wasn't going to wimp out now. Beth walked back to her original position and notched a bolt. She raised the crossbow up once more and tried to concentrate on the target. Suddenly, Daryl came up behind her and put his head right against hers, looking down her line of sight. His arm moved up and adjusted the direction she was pointing the crossbow. "You need to look straight down the bolt if you want it to be accurate," Daryl said, his breath on Beth's neck. She tried her best to concentrate but Beth suddenly felt very self-conscious as she realized how close Daryl was. Beth realized she was taking too long to shoot so she quickly pulled the metal back, causing the bolt to whizz off beyond the tree. Daryl moved away and Beth was able to catch her breath. "You are going to have to go find the bolt," Daryl ordered, "I ain't making any more of them." The blonde rolled her eyes and headed off to search for Daryl's bolt. _Don't make an idiot of yourself, what are you doing getting so excited just because he leaned over you?_ Beth cursed herself silently as she dug through the bushes.

Finally, she noticed a feather sticking up out of a patch of weeds. Sure enough, it was Daryl's bolt. The feathers were a speckled brown and white with a black tip unlike the fake yellow rubber that was on the end of most of the bolts. Beth wondered what kind of bird it had come from. Beth had to respect Daryl's resourcefulness, maybe someday he could teach her to make bolts as well. When Beth returned, Daryl was leaning on the tree waiting for her. She placed the bolt in his hand and he added it to the rest. "Better get ready for tomorrow," Daryl warned, "because that was an easy practice today." Beth arms ached, but she smiled. Despite how tired she was, it was fun learning how to shoot the crossbow and she couldn't have found a better teacher. "Yes Mr. Dixon," Beth joked, making a little salute. Daryl snorted and headed back to their camp.

Around noon, they packed up the few items they had and began walking along the river. Beth enjoyed being outside, she had been cooped up in the prison for so long that despite the danger they were in, she couldn't help but appreciate the feeling of the outdoors. If it hadn't been for the need to watch out for walkers, Beth could have almost fooled herself into thinking that they were just going on a hike. Throughout the day, they only came across a few walkers, which Daryl quickly dispatched. While they walked, the redneck pointed out different animal pawprints and Beth would guess what they belonged to. If she couldn't get it right in five tries, Daryl would tell her the answer. When the sun began to hang low in the sky, Daryl finally suggested that they should find a place to camp for the night. Their camp ended up being a small patch of open field right next to a creek. Beth set her things down and helped Daryl string objects around the perimeter to warn them of walkers at night.

"You up to hunting a little," Daryl asked. Beth looked up to see Daryl offering her his crossbow. Beth took it from him, happy that he trusted her enough to do something as important as hunt for dinner. The older man headed into the forest and motioned for her to follow. They slunk around the trees, trying not to disturb their prey.

Finally, they came across several rabbits nibbling on some grass. Beth had always liked rabbits and would much rather keep one as a pet than shoot it, but her stomach convinced her otherwise. Daryl tapped her hand, indicating that she should take aim. Beth lifted it up and looked down the end of the bolt, trying to concentrate the closest brown rabbit. It hopped a little closer and Beth adjusted the crossbow accordingly, her finger hovering on the metal release. It took only a second, the bolt leaped from the crossbow and buried itself into the rabbit's hind quarters before it even had time to hop away. The little creature wreathed in pain until Daryl withdrew his carving knife and finished it off. Beth looked away at the last minute, she didn't want to see the sweet animal die. "Good job Sunshine, we got ourselves a decent meal to look forward to tonight," came Daryl's gruff voice from behind her. When she looked back, Daryl had somehow hung the rabbit on his backpack, the blood still dripping from it. "Let's see if there is anything else worth shooting around here," Daryl said, before heading off. They found a couple more rabbits and a pigeon, but Beth's aim wasn't good enough yet hit her intended target. Daryl had Beth try and track the trail of a coyote, but they lost it when the prints ended at the river.

Back at camp, Daryl skinned the rabbit and Beth roasted it over the fire she had made. Once it was cooked, they both took a seat on the ground and began eating chunks of hot rabbit. Daryl could tell that Beth was a bit disappointed that she hadn't managed to shoot anything else. "Ya know, Merle was a much worse shot with the crossbow than you," Daryl said, "the one time I tried to teach him, he ended up shooting out our pa's truck's tire. The old man got mad as hell and would have given Merle a whoopin if he wasn't too drunk to walk." Beth chuckled at the thought of Merle trying to learn to use the crossbow. "How did you get your crossbow," Beth asked. Daryl's fingers ran over his prized possession and a grin came to his face. "I won it off a guy at Rosie's bar," he told Beth, "He didn't have any money to bet on our pool game and so he hauled this bad boy up out of nowhere. I had another crossbow before that, but it was a piece of crap. I beat the guy, but just barely." Beth nodded, taking in Daryl's story. "So you were like a pool shark or what," Beth questioned. "There ain't a lot of things I take pride in, but I can play a mean game of pool," Daryl told Beth, "I started in high school. Merle's friends loved to play and I just kinda picked it up. After a while I got good and that's how I would make a bit of extra cash when I needed it." Beth sat there taking in the information, she wasn't used to asking Daryl questions and him actually giving her answers.

"When I was in high school, I was on the equestrian team," Beth said, contrasting their experiences, "I used to ride my horse every day, training her for our big meet. When I was riding her, I felt so free and so alive. After the walkers appeared, I used to go out and talk to her every night while I brushed her coat." Beth glanced down at her hands, remembering how she had sobbed into Sally's mane every night for weeks after her mom turned. "That is, until someone took her out of the barn and lost her in the woods," Beth finished, looking up at Daryl. Daryl's eyes widened, he obviously hadn't know that it was her horse that he had taken. "Well, that damn horse of yours near killed me so I think we can call it even," he retorted. Beth thought back to how Daryl had been dragged half alive into her house, wearing the ears of some walkers he had killed. Back then, Daryl had seemed wilder than he did now. "Maybe Daryl isn't calmer, maybe it is me who changed," Beth thought to herself. She remembered how adamantly Daryl had told her yesterday that she had changed, it was possible that Daryl was right. Several years ago she wouldn't have been out in the middle of the woods shooting a crossbow with a rough redneck that was about ten years older than her. Now, not only was she able to manage the rough lifestyle, she was actually enjoying her time with Daryl.

Beth yawned, the crossbow training had tired her out. "Why don't you get some sleep, I will keep watch," Daryl offered. The blonde nodded and laid down right where she had been sitting. As the fire died down, she could feel goosebumps rising on her arms. Suddenly, warmth enveloped her and Beth opened her eyes to see that Daryl had laid his vest with the angel wings over her. Daryl's woodsy sent reached Beth's nose, it wasn't a bad scent at all. That was the last thought that Beth had before she fell asleep.

Daryl's POV

Daryl stayed up the whole night keeping watch. He could have woken Beth up to take her turn, but he had so much trouble sleeping ever since the attack on the prison that it wouldn't do him any good to lay down. The few hours of sleep that Daryl had gotten since Beth and him had been on the run just ended in nightmares. He would wake up covered in sweat and trembling all over. Daryl's eyes drifted over the edge of the campsite. The night had been a quiet one, only a few walkers could be heard in the distance. Daryl glanced over the fire to make sure it was out and then his gaze fell on Beth, who was curled up a few feet away from him. Her light skin and hair reflected a bit of the moonlight, making her look like some kind of angel, the angel wings from his jacket suited her much more than they suited him. She fidgeted a bit in her sleep and her hand wrapped around his vest. Daryl's suddenly had to look away, he felt like some old pervert watching Beth sleep. He glanced back out into the woods but there was very little to see and slowly, his gaze was drawn back to the young woman. She looked so much younger when her face wasn't etched in worry. Daryl liked it when Beth smiled or laughed, he didn't want her to ever lose that happiness that seemed to come so naturally to her. Daryl thought back to how she had been practicing with his crossbow. Although she needed a lot of practice, when he had seen her shoot that rabbit, he had been filled with pride. Beth wasn't the same little girl he had meet on the farm, she had grown up a lot.

The groan of a walker interrupted Daryl's thoughts. He waited to see if it would come any closer, but it just shambled off in another direction. Light was beginning to come up over the horizon. Daryl stood up and stretched his legs. He went down to the river and got a quick drink and filled up his canteen. Fish flitted around in the water and Daryl considered trying to catch a few of them, but decided that would take more energy than they were worth. At some point he would need to try and get some hooks and a line.

Daryl walked slowly back to their makeshift camp and sat down. Soon he would need to wake Beth up, but he wanted to give her just a little more time to sleep. The redneck took out his knife and spent a bit of time chopping off some of his broken nails. Finally, he couldn't wait any longer, he walked over to Beth and nudged her on the shoulder. "Com'on, time to get up," he said. Beth breathed in deeply and then opened her eyes and blinked a few times before sitting up. "I had the most amazing dream," she said, half awake. Daryl grunted, unsure if she wanted to talk about it or not. "I was riding my horse out at my dad's farm when I came across this beautiful meadow. There were all kinds of flowers there, dandelions, Indian paintbrushes, bluebonnets, and sunflowers. Fat bumblebees were flying all around, but they didn't scare me," Beth described. Daryl just nodded, at least one of them was getting a good night's sleep.

"Where are we headed today," Beth asked. "East," Daryl answered before getting up and beginning to unwind the string surrounding their camp. Beth got up and began to help him as she hummed some cheerful tune. After they had finished, they packed up their belongings and headed out. Daryl walked in front, careful to look out for walkers. As they hiked, he kept a sharp lookout for any wildlife. He wanted to find prey that Beth could practice her crossbow skills on. Finally, he noticed a raccoon high up in a pine tree. "Beth, see that coon," Daryl pointed out. She turned her head up and located the furry animal. "Yes," she said. "Here," Daryl said as he took the crossbow off of his back and handed it to her. Beth took the weapon from him and notched the bolt just like he taught her. She aimed the crossbow up into the tree and he could tell she was concentrating really hard. He examined her form and checked to make sure that Beth was doing everything right. Her finger hovered over the release and then the bolt flew up into the air and right over the head of the raccoon. Beth lowered the crossbow, disappointment written all over her face. "You shot it, you retrieve it," Daryl told the blonde. She nodded at him before going off in search of the arrow. Daryl waited for Beth and after several minutes, he decided that she might need some help. He began combing the area searching for his bolt. Finally, he found it lodged in a branch a bit higher than his head. Daryl pulled it out and took it over to Beth.

As he was handing the bolt to the young woman, he noticed a disturbance in the leaves at Beth's feet. The foliage had long sections that were bare, as if a horribly uncoordinated person had stumbled through the forest, or more likely, a walker. Beth was still new at shooting, but she wasn't horrible. Daryl pondered the idea in his head, Beth needed to learn how to kill walkers, in a world like this, it was a necessary skill.

"I have a new target for you," Daryl told Beth. She looked up at him, ready to practice. "This one we are going to have to track down though, it is very important that you learn the signs of this particular predator's presence," Daryl explained, wanting Beth to understand how important this was. "Okay," she said, excited for the new training exercise. Daryl followed the walker's trail while Beth tromped behind him. There was a bit of blood on a tree trunk, it looked fresh. The walker must have found something to eat, Daryl hoped that something wasn't a human. "Okay," he whispered in Beth's ear, "Get the crossbow up and go in front of me slowly." The young woman came into view and raised his weapon up as she peered around the bushes, trying to glimpse what they were tracking. "Kay," Daryl said, giving her a nudge with his hand in the direction of the trail. Beth went forward slowly, peering down the crossbow the whole time. After they had gone about a quarter of a mile, Beth spoke. "Are we close," she asked. "Almost there," Daryl encouraged, getting closer so that he see Beth's point of view of the forest. "How do you know," Beth questioned. "The signs are all there, you just gotta know how to read them," Daryl answered. Beth took a step further, moving away from him. "What are we tracking," she probed. Daryl's eyes moved over the trail of disturbed leaves and the bit of blood on the ground, but he gave nothing away. "You tell me," Daryl challenged. Beth suddenly lowered the crossbow and looked back at him in exasperation. "You wanted to learn," Daryl reminded her. She turned away and began examining the ground in front of them. Daryl waited while she took everything in, he watched as she bit her lip in frustration. "Well," Beth finally said, "Somethin came through here." Daryl saw her looking at the path the walker had taken, she was catching on. "The pattern is all zig-zaggy," Beth observed. Daryl kept quiet, wanting Beth to figure it out. "It's a walker," Beth suddenly exclaimed, looking over at him for confirmation. The older man couldn't help but tease her. "Maybe it's a drunk," Daryl suggested. Beth's face lit up upon realizing that she had been right. "I'm getting good at this," she announced, going back to following the tracks, "pretty soon I won't need you at all." Beth didn't mean anything by her comment, but Daryl's stomach clenched at the idea. _Stupid, the idea is to teach her how to fend for herself_. "Yeah," he muttered, "keep on trackin."

Daryl followed after Beth, taking in the surrounding and watching her technique at the same time. Suddenly, Beth froze in front of him; the walker had come into view. It was knelt over eating some small animal. "It's got a gun," Beth said softly, trying not to draw the walker's attention. She seemed unsure of what to do and looked back at Daryl for support. He nodded and she turned back and raised the weapon up. Daryl watched as she inched closer to the living corpse. One part of him wanted to pull her back and away from the danger, but a more logical part of his brain told him that Beth needed to learn how to kill in order to survive. Daryl hung back a bit while Beth took aim. He was close enough to help, but he wanted Beth to feel like she was doing this on her own. He observed closely as Beth inched closer to the walker. She looked comical, the petite girl with his big crossbow resting on her shoulder. Daryl glanced at the walker, who hadn't noticed Beth yet. Then, he looked back at the young woman. She had a fierce look on her face. Daryl's eyes took in how her hair fell over her shoulder. She had a braid in her ponytail that was very distracting. His eyes swept lower to her thin waist.

Suddenly, the ground beneath Beth's foot exploded and a metal chink could be heard in the air. The blonde grunted as she fell down. Daryl began mentally cussing himself as he went to help Beth. The walker was headed straight for her, she raised his crossbow and fired, managing to hit it in the neck. The bastard didn't stop coming though. Daryl grabbed the crossbow from Beth, but didn't have time to load it. He swung the weapon up and hit the walker straight in the head. The monster slumped to the ground with a satisfying thud.

Daryl threw the crossbow aside and ran back to Beth. A metal trap, probably set for wolves, was clamped onto her boot. Daryl cussed himself mentally, how could he let himself get distracted like that? Why hadn't he noticed earlier? Daryl leaned down, inspecting the device as Beth made little whimpering noises. He grabbed the cold metal teeth and pried them open. Beth slid her foot out, gasping at the movement. Daryl wanted to punch something. Beth was hurt and it was all his fault. Stuff like this never happened to him, how could he have let his guard down? He was supposed to be watching out for her. "Can you move it," Daryl asked. "Yeah," Beth replied, flexing her foot a bit to prove her statement. "I think it's sprained," Beth managed to say. Her face was contorted in pain and Daryl hated himself for that. "Com'ere," Daryl said, putting his arm under Beth and lifting her up. She stood up but wasn't very stable. Daryl grabbed his crossbow and slung it over his back. Beth was now too hurt to run, they couldn't be out in the open like this. Daryl needed to find them a safe place. He put his arm under Beth's shoulder and let her lean on him as they walked. Daryl didn't know where he was going, but he knew that they couldn't stay out in the woods any longer.


	6. Chapter 6

**Warning: In this chapter Beth has a flashback to her suicide so if that is a sensitive issue for anyone, please skip the beginning. I redid parts of this chapter multiple times and ended up with what I hope is the most likely and most interesting version. Enjoy!**

Beth's POV

Beth's ankle throbbed, but she forced herself to keep walking. Her boot was tight around her ankle, which had become swollen. Daryl was supporting her, but Beth was getting tired. The young woman was very conscious of the fact that if anything happened, she would be vulnerable. With her healthy and Daryl around, walkers were not usually much of a problem. However, Daryl couldn't use his crossbow as long as he was supporting her and if a herd appeared, Beth wouldn't be able to outrun them. "Com'on," Daryl encouraged, tightening his arm around her waist. Beth stumbled forward, trying to continue. They had been walking for over an hour and Beth's ankle was only getting worse. Her backpack felt like it weighed a ton and even little obstacles, such as tree roots were difficult for Beth to step over. Clouds had covered the sun, making the forest dim and hard to see through. Suddenly, Beth slipped on the leaves that littered the steep incline they were going down. Daryl caught her, grunting with the effort. He set her back on her one good foot and they kept going. Any second Beth expected a walker to jump out and that would be the end of her.

A few years ago, she had tried to commit suicide. The young woman could remember the decision as if it were yesterday. Beth had stood in the bathroom, Andre's words ringing in her ears. She had thought she had no more reason to live. Her mom and brother were dead and she didn't want to go the same way they did. Beth didn't want to be ripped apart by gnashing teeth; she didn't want to watch as each one of her family members died. She had been so scared of the future, which only promised pain and uncertainty. As the dark thoughts and emotions rolled around in her head, she had picked up a glass shard that was in the sink. Andre had given her a knife, but the mirror shard was more appropriate. That mirror held memories. Her mother had bought that mirror at an auction. Annette would always put sweet little uplifting bible verses on sticky notes and leave them on the mirror for her family to read throughout the day. When the apocalypse happened, her mom had been bitten on the ankle. For several days, they had kept her mom in bed while Hershel had tried his best to cure his beloved wife. Then, one day, Annette had seemed a bit better. Her eyes had more light in them and she wanted to try and take a shower by herself. The whole family thought she was going to be okay, they had thought that one of Hershel's medicines had finally worked.

Beth could clearly picture her daddy assisting her ma on the short walk to the bathroom, her frail arm clinging to Hershel. Her pa had bent down and kissed Annette on the forehead before leaving her to take her shower. Beth heard the shower turn on while she tidied up the room. Then, Beth went downstairs and helped Maggie make breakfast. The sisters had hummed while they cooked. The whole house had not been so alive with happiness since the walkers appeared.

That didn't last long though. As time passed, her mom never came out of the bathroom. Shawn had offered to go up and check on his stepmother. A knock could be heard from upstairs. "You alright Annette," Shawn's voice had asked. Beth had been flipping the bacon when Shawn's scream pierced the air. Both she and Maggie had frozen for a second. At the sound of Hershel's boots on the stairs, they had dropped their cooking utensils and followed after him. A tinkling sound came from upstairs followed by another yell. Beth could still see the horrible image in her head. She had rounded the corner to find her mom crouched over Shawn's dead body. Ripping sounds filled the air as her former mother bit into her stepson's neck. Blood was all over the bathroom and the mirror was cracked. The worst part had been when her mom had looked up. Blood ran down her mouth and her eyes were bloodshot, all the color was gone out of them. That was the beginning of the end.

With that last memory, Beth had looked up into the cracked mirror and saw multiple images of herself reflected back at her. They had been naïve and stupid to think that a few medicines would save her mother. Beth had realized that when Shane opened the barn. They weren't people anymore, once you were bit, there was no returning. Beth didn't ever want to have the same fate, she didn't want her body to try and kill those that she loved. Not seeing any other option, Beth had drawn the sharp mirror shard across her wrist. Blood had leaped out and run over her skin in beautiful crimson trickles. Beth was relieved at first; she had finally done the deed she was so afraid to do. However, she hadn't cut deep enough for instantaneous results. While Beth stood there watching her life flow out, new memories began to come to her. She saw Maggie teaching her how to ride a horse, she saw Hershel teaching her how to drive his old pickup truck. She remembered Jimmy's smile when she had first told him that she felt the same way about him. Beth began to picture how they would react when they found her dead. They were the people she loved the most in this world and she was never going to see them again. The thought was too much, Beth put her right hand over her wrist, trying to stop the flow of blood, but it ran over her fingers and onto the floor. Beth didn't know what to do, she was starting to feel dizzy. Suddenly, the door had slammed open and Beth had looked up to see Maggie standing there in horror.

Immediately, her father had come and stitched her up. He had tucked Beth into bed and she had looked up at the sadness in his eyes. Beth felt ashamed, she had almost made her father suffer losing another child, she had been selfish by thinking that she was the only one that was hurting. That night, after her father had left, Beth had promised that she would never give up hope again. She had prayed to God that as long as he kept her alive, she would keep fighting. That was a promise she had kept ever since.

Beth gained courage from the memory and took another step. Right now she had a job to do and that job was to put one foot in front of the other. Beth had to keep going because being outside put not only her but Daryl in danger. Sweat trickled down Beth's neck and she clenched Daryl's side to help support herself. Daryl looked down with concern and Beth did her best to smile as if nothing was wrong. The redneck didn't look convinced. Beth looked away and kept walking. Every step sent a spiking pain up her leg, Beth wasn't going to hold out much longer. As if God had heard her prayers, they rounded a tree to find a graveyard in front of them. At the end of the cemetery, there was a large two-story white house. Beth almost fell to the ground in relief, they were going to be okay. The end was so close, but Beth couldn't walk another step. "Can we hold up a sec," Beth asked, finally giving in to her body's demands. "You alright," Daryl asked, worry coloring his voice. Beth didn't want to make a big deal out of her ankle, Daryl was concerned enough as it was. "I just need to sit down for a little while," Beth said, trying to downplay how bad she was feeling. Daryl looked off towards the house and Beth was sure he was going to ask her to keep going since they were so close.

Instead, Daryl swung his crossbow strap around his neck and squatted in front her. He put his arms behind him and grunted. "Hop on," he offered. "Are you serious," Beth asked. She wanted nothing more than to be carried the rest of the way but she knew Daryl was tired as well and he was carrying his crossbow, which wasn't any light weight. "Yeah," Daryl replied, "this is a serious piggyback. Now, jump on." Beth hesitantly put her arms around Daryl's shoulders, suddenly feeling very embarrassed at the thought of being carried by the redneck. Thankfully, he couldn't see the blood rising to her cheeks. Her ankle throbbed again, making the decision for Beth. She used her good leg to leap up a bit and onto Daryl's back. He jumped, making Beth sit up a bit higher and then Daryl wrapped his hands around Beth's thighs so that she wouldn't fall off. "You're heavier than you look," Daryl complained. Beth knew he was saying that because he was embarrassed so she didn't reply. Instead, Beth rested her head on Daryl's shoulder and enjoyed the feel of his hair on her face as he carried her. Beth could feel every muscle underneath her, she felt secure in Daryl's hands. Daryl's woodsy scent along with sweat and dirt filled the air. Beth clung a little more than necessary to Daryl's back.

As Daryl made his way through the burial ground, Beth took in her surroundings. Being in a cemetery before the apocalypse would have given her the creeps, but those days were long gone. There was nothing to fear of the dead who were not trying to kill her. Beth looked ahead at the white house, it had columns on the front that gave it a regal look. It reminded Beth of her family's house, except that it looked a lot newer. "Maybe there are people there," she told Daryl. "Yeah," Daryl said in a wary voice, his muscles tensing at the thought, "and if there are, I will handle them." Beth wanted to sigh in exasperation, she knew that you had to be careful these days but you shouldn't just assume that everyone was bad. "There are still good people Daryl," Beth reminded the redneck. "I don't think the good ones survive," he replied. Beth could see why Daryl thought that, especially after what had happened with the governor. However, most of the people in their group were good people. Beth thought of Maggie, Glenn, Michonne, and Rick. They were all good people. Daryl grunted as he hoisted Beth up a bit higher. Daryl was good too, he just couldn't seem to see it.

As Beth was thinking about what to reply, a tombstone caught her attention. At the bottom it said BELOVED FATHER. Beth slid off Daryl's back without thinking about what she was doing. Somehow, it seemed like the words were meant for her daddy. The tombstone was broken off at the top where the name of the man would have been. Beth couldn't tear her eyes away from the engraving. She wished that she could have buried her father, instead he had been left out in the field where the walkers had probably done horrible things to him. There had been no other option than to leave her daddy, but Beth still felt guilty about it. Suddenly, Daryl moved in front of her and put some yellow flowers on the tombstone. Beth was touched by his gesture. When Daryl came back to her side, Beth instinctively took his hand in hers. Daryl's hand froze and he didn't respond for a second. Beth wondered if she had pushed Daryl's personal space a little too far, but then his hand came alive and he wound his fingers in hers. Beth gripped his hand, thankful for the support that seemed to radiate from him. Slowly, Beth bowed her head and said a silent prayer for her father.

Daryl's POV

When Daryl had felt Beth's hand sneak into his, he hadn't known what to do. He had never been much of a holding hands kind of person. A few of the trashy women that Merle had brought home had tried it on him and he had always pushed them away. Holding hands with the floozies had always made him feel like they were trying to own him or stake some claim on him, it disgusted Daryl. Somehow, with Beth though, it was different. Daryl couldn't make himself pull away, so he gave into the feeling and allowed his fingers to become intertwined in hers. Beth's hands were beginning to get calluses from using his crossbow, but they were still smoother than anything he had ever touched. He watched as Beth bent her head. Daryl understood that she was having a personal moment and looked away. The redneck scanned the graveyard, making sure no walkers were around. Not a single shambling body was in sight. Beth's hand squeezed Daryl's and he turned back to the young woman. "He is in a better place now," Beth said simply. Daryl just nodded, he didn't believe in any of that heaven crap, but if it made Beth feel better, he would play along. "Ready," Daryl asked. Beth nodded and Daryl crouched over again so that she could climb on his back. Her hands wrapped lightly around his neck and Beth's blonde hair fell across his neck, sending tingles down his spine. Daryl tried to ignore the sensation and began plodding forward toward the house. He really hoped that no one was there, they had had enough bad luck for one day.

As he made his way up the steps, Beth squirmed to look around his head at the building. Two wooden rocking chairs sat on the porch, other than that it was empty. Daryl let Beth slide off his back and then took his crossbow off, ready for action. First, he rapped on the windows, which elicited no response. Next, he tried the doorknob and it turned freely. Daryl pushed the door wide open to give him a clear view of whatever was inside. His eyes took in the wooden floor and the white staircase that led upward. Pictures of country landscapes hung on the wall and a couple of lamps were set up on a dresser. There wasn't a single walker in sight, but that didn't mean there wasn't one hiding somewhere. Daryl banged on the doorframe, hoping to draw any walkers out. He whistled for good measure, never hurt to be extra careful. The house was dead quiet, but Daryl had learned from experience that those bastards could pop out of anywhere. "Give it a minute," Daryl cautioned Beth as she came up behind him. They stood there in silence, straining to hear if any walker was upstairs or in the next room.

When nothing happened, Daryl began making his way into the house, keeping his crossbow at the ready. He scooped out what appeared to be the living room and the kitchen, which were empty of humans and walkers. Something about the place put Daryl on edge. There wasn't a single plate in the sink. Every item was put neatly in its place. No clothes lay scattered on the floor, no indication that the owner had left in a rush. There were no signs of a human living there, but houses didn't just take care of themselves.

Daryl signaled at Beth to come in and she obediently followed his order. "It's so clean," Beth observed, looking around at the furniture. "Yeah," Daryl replied, "someone's been tending to it. May still be around." All of Daryl's instincts told him to leave. He wasn't real social before the apocalypse and he sure as hell hadn't gotten any better since then. However, Beth couldn't be outside with that hurt ankle of hers, it was too much of a risk. The only thing that could be done was to scope out the place and make sure it was safe.

Daryl headed towards a room on his left. Silky white curtains covered the window but let a slight glow in. Wooden chairs were lined up side by side, packed tight in the small room. At the far end, there was a coffin with a man lying in it. On either side of the coffin, vases held lovely white and purple flowers. A pulpit held a red leather bible. Daryl walked up to the coffin to determine if the body was truly dead or if it was going to turn. Beth's steps made soft echoes as she entered. The man had short blonde hair and wore a business suit. Daryl reached out a hand and touched the man's cheek. It was cold and a powder clung to his fingers. Daryl moved his finger's down the man's face, exposing the makeup that someone had applied. Whoever was still taking care of the house was a mortician. If this was a morgue then there was likely to be something to bandage Beth's ankle with. Daryl left the room and continued his inspection of the house. Upstairs there were three bedrooms and two restrooms, both empty and devoid of human life. As Daryl came down the stairs, he didn't see Beth.

For a second, Daryl's heart stopped, but then he heard her voice calling him. Beth was standing by a door at the end of the hallway. She was peering down a flight of stairs that turned so that she couldn't see what was at the end. Daryl took the lead and walked carefully down the steps so that they wouldn't creak. He came out into a small room that had two dead bodies on metal tables. One's face had only been partially redone with makeup. The other side was decaying and rotting. Daryl turned away from the sight. _Don't people have better things to do than try and make a walker look nice?_ He set his crossbow on the counter and began digging through the drawers in search of athletic tape. The first couple of drawers were empty. One held all sorts of makeup and embalming fluid. Daryl moved upward, checking the higher cabinets. Not only did he find the tape, but he also found some Aspirin. Beth slowly descended the steps and stood in the doorway staring at the walkers. "Let's get that ankle wrapped," Daryl suggested.

Beth didn't come over to him though; instead she made her way to the walkers. Daryl went over to the young girl and bit into the plastic that covered the tape. He glanced down at the monsters she was gazing at. "Looks like someone ran out of dolls to dress up," Daryl commented. Beth's head whipped up and she glared at him. "It's beautiful," she said, obviously offended. Daryl stopped opening the tape. He hadn't meant anything by his statement; he certainly didn't mean to upset the young woman. Daryl looked down at the walkers and couldn't understand what Beth saw in them. After everything that had happened, how could she still look at those things and not be repulsed? "Whoever did this cared," Beth continued, "they wanted these people to get a funeral." That was Beth, always seeing the best in everything. Daryl hung his head, a bit ashamed of his earlier comment. "They remembered that these things were people before all of this," Beth said, "They didn't let it change them in the end." Daryl shifted, not sure how to respond to Beth's passionate speech. Daryl didn't like to think of the walkers as people, it made it harder to do necessary things, like kill them. However, Daryl also knew that you had to have a certain strength to see those monsters kill your family and still see them as people. "Don't you think that's beautiful," asked Beth. Daryl raised his eyes to find Beth looking straight at him. Her face was full of emotion and her eyes were pleading with him to understand. Her blond hair was spilling out of her ponytail and framing her face. Daryl was seeing something beautiful, but the dead walkers were not it.

**A big thank you to all my readers for their support and encouraging comments! I hope to get one chapter out every week that is my goal anyway. I really love Daryl and Beth's relationship, they are such amazing characters and I hope that I do them justice. **


	7. Chapter 7

**I know I just came out with a chapter but this next one really just came to me. I spent all morning typing it up and it flowed so smoothly. Unlike most chapters, I didn't edit this one a lot because I was pretty content with how it turned out the first time. Usually, I won't add so much at one time, but this was an exception. Enjoy!**

Beth's POV

Beth lay in the unfamiliar bed and looked up at the ceiling. Her ankle was wrapped up good and tight. Daryl had been firm but also gentle when he had bandaged her injury. Beth's ankle still tingled at the feel of his fingers running across her skin as he wound the athletic tape like a pro. Beth tried to get his image out of her head but every time she closed her eyes, she just saw Daryl's deep blue eyes staring at her from under his shaggy brown hair. As much as she had tried to hide it, Beth had to admit that she was attracted to the older man.

Ever since the apocalypse began, Beth had begun shutting men out. It all began with Jimmy. She had had a crush on the tall blonde youth since her freshman year of high school. He had been a year older than her and a star on the softball team. Her junior year, Beth and Jimmy had begun dating. She had thought she was in love, she began seeing wedding bells in her future. That all changed when the apocalypse happened. Every time Jimmy went outside, Beth was afraid that he would never return. Finally, her fears had come true that dark night when a herd had overrun her family's farm. Beth was lucky she hadn't seen it happen, she could pretend he had died a normal death in peace, she could change the memory to make it better.

Then, there had been Zack. He had been good-looking and very kind, but Beth didn't want to fall in love with someone just to have them ripped away from her. She had learned her lesson the first time. In her previous life, they might have become friends and then dated for a while, but as things were, it was impossible. Beth had flirted with the young man because she had wanted to pretend that she could have a normal life and date a guy and everything would be perfect. The strapping young lad had made her feel things that she needed to feel when the horror of living made her feel dead on the inside. Yet, throughout their whole undefined relationship, Beth had never really allowed herself to become close to Zack. Her fears had been warranted because one night after a run, Daryl had shown up by her door. She had been able to tell just by the look on his face. When Daryl broke the news to her, she didn't freak out or cry because she had expected it. That was the liability that came with living in the world they were stuck in. For a long time after Zack died, Beth had pushed away all dreams of ever getting married or having kids. She didn't want to fall in love only to have her husband ripped away from her or her kids turned to walkers before her very eyes. The same way Daryl pushed away any kind of relationship with anyone, Beth had begun to push away the idea of ever having a romantic relationship.

That was, until she and Daryl had become stranded together. With Daryl, it was safe to have feelings for him. He wasn't going to disappear the next day, if anyone could survive in this world, it would be him. Beth had meant it when she told Daryl that he would be the last man standing. However, not only did she feel safe having feelings for Daryl, he was worth it. Beth remembered how he had cried about letting the Governor come into the prison, how he had carried her to the house. Daryl might seem rough on the outside, but he was a good person. The young woman knew nothing would ever come of her feelings, he was about ten years older than her and he probably saw her as a child, yet she could dream, couldn't she?

Beth noticed a presence at her door. Daryl stood there holding a water bottle and a couple of pills. "Here take these," Daryl insisted, offering Beth the Aspirin. Beth sat up and dutifully took the medicine. "I'm going to go get the place locked up," Daryl said, "you go ahead and get some shut eye." Beth nodded. "Do you need anything else," the rough man questioned. "No, thank you though," Beth responded. The redneck nodded and left the room, closing the door on the way out. Beth laid back down on the comfy bed, enjoying the softness after sleeping outside for the past several nights with weeds pricking into her skin. Slowly, the medicine began to kick in and the pain subsided. It had been a long day and Beth ached on every part of her body. She pulled an extra pillow over to hug as she settled down to go to sleep.

Daryl's POV

After Daryl had wrapped up Beth's ankle, he had helped her up the stairs and into a bed. Then, he had gone back down to search for water that Beth could take the Aspirin with. He had found a pack of water bottles in a closet and had downed a few before he took one up to the young girl. Once he had made sure that she had everything she needed, Daryl began securing the house. The first thing he had did was to take the dead body out of the coffin and drag it into the woods nearby. He didn't need any more dead people than necessary around him. Next, he dug through the old boxes and drawers to see what metal objects he could find. Then, Daryl took out a thin rope and strung all the odds and ends onto it. He wrapped the cord all around the house, making sure that no walker could get on the porch without him hearing them. Lastly, he boarded up the front windows. The sun had already set and there was no electricity in the house. Daryl tried to work in the darkness for a while but soon gave up. He would have to finish the job some other time. Before he could go to sleep, Daryl wanted to check on Beth. On his way to her room, Daryl grabbed another water bottle.

Daryl made his way quietly up the stairs and opened her door a crack. Beth was lying on the bed, she hadn't even bothered to get under the covers. She clutched a pillow close to her as if for support. Daryl wondered if the young woman always held something when she slept, then he shook his head to clear the thought. Daryl dug around in his pocket and came up with two more Aspirin. He placed them and the water on the stand by Beth's bed before glancing one more time at the sleeping figure and forcing himself to leave. The redneck made a quick inspection around the house, making sure everything was secure for the night. Daryl's back ached from supporting Beth all day and he flopped onto the couch rather than walk back up the stairs again. He still felt guilt over Beth being injured, it was all his own damn stupid fault. Daryl was supposed to be watching out for the young girl, not having pervy thoughts and getting distracted. A little voice in his head whispered that she was already over age. Daryl growled into the air and turned over on his side. He didn't know what had come over him lately, ever since that night drinking with Beth, he hadn't been the same. Daryl knew he shouldn't have touched that damn moonshine, nothing good ever came of drinking. The redneck kicked his boots off and got comfortable. The couch was narrow but it was a hell of a lot better than the ground. For a long time, Daryl stayed awake listening to the sounds of the house. Finally, he drifted off into a light slumber.

Beth's POV

Beth woke up in a sweat. Her whole body was shaking and she had the pillow in a visor tight grip. The nightmare had seemed so real. One second she had been out at the farm gathering eggs from the chickens and the next a herd had appeared out of nowhere. She had been fighting them with off with a pitchfork but for every single one she had killed, another had taken its place. They had been closing in on her when Beth had finally woken up. Trying to calm her nerves, Beth forced herself to breathe at a slow rate. After several minutes, Beth began to relax. _Just a dream, nothing I can't handle. _

Beth looked over at the windows to see that the sun had already risen. Daryl had let her sleep in. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Her ankle was very sore and swollen but it was feeling better already. On the little table beside her bed there was another water bottle and two more Aspirin. Beth smiled a bit before taking them as she thought of the rough man doing something as sweet as leaving her medicine. After swallowing the pills, she began looking for Daryl. He wasn't in either of the two other bedrooms, it looked like the beds hadn't even been touched. She headed downstairs to find his crossbow on the coffee table in front of the couch. Beth was considering which room to try next when she heard a shuffling sound coming from the room that held the coffin. She walked over to find Daryl dismantling the wooden chairs. He looked up at her and smiled. "Well, good morning Sleeping Beauty, about time you woke up," he teased. Beth laughed before settling down on the floor beside him. "What did those chairs ever do to you," Beth questioned. Daryl searched around for a screwdriver before answering, "windows gotta be boarded up." Beth nodded and watched him while he worked. Suddenly, her stomach let out a loud growling sound. Daryl looked up and Beth blushed in embarrassment. "Got any food in this house," she asked. "Let's go find out," Daryl replied. He stood up and stretched, unintentionally showing off his very impressive biceps. Then he looked down at Beth and extended his hand. Beth put her hand in his big strong one and felt herself be pulled up off the floor.

The kitchen was in perfect condition, no food stains or left-out fruit in sight. Daryl began digging through the top cabinets while Beth opened the refrigerator. "Dang," she exclaimed, there wasn't a single thing in the fridge, didn't look like anything had been inside the fridge with how clean it was. "You find anything," Beth asked Daryl as he sorted through shelves full of cups and plates. Daryl opened the next cabinet, which answered Beth's question. It was full of food and not just canned ravioli or beans, it had the good stuff. Bottles of water and coke were beside a couple of bags of chips. A box of Oreos sat off to one side along with several other chocolate treats. "Whoa," the young woman exclaimed, taking in all the delicious food. "Peanut butter and jelly," Daryl reported as he dug through the hoard of food, "diet soda and pigs feet. That's a white trash brunch right there." Beth still couldn't believe her eyes, she took a couple of cans off the shelf to make sure they were real. "It all looks good to me," Beth told Daryl. She found a can of fruit and almost squealed with joy, it had been so long since she had had peaches. "Hold on," Daryl suddenly said, "there ain't a speck of dust on this." Beth waited for the older man to finish but he just stood there staring at the food. "So," Beth inquired. "That means someone just put it here," Daryl explained, "This is someone's stash. Maybe they're still alive." Daryl shifted uncomfortably at the idea and began peering around the room as if he was expecting someone to pop out any second.

Finally he turned back. "All right, we'll take some of it and we'll leave the rest, all right," Daryl decided. Beth processed his statement for a little while. She wanted to just gobble everything up. Yet, Daryl who had talked about "taking care of" whoever might live here wanted to leave some of the food for the unknown person. If Daryl truly thought the person who lived here was bad, he wouldn't hesitate to steal their food supply. "I knew it," Beth said as a smile came to her face. Daryl, who had been busy opening a jar, looked over at her confused. "Knew what," he asked. "It's like I said, there are still good people," Beth told him softly, touched that he cared. The rough man stared her down, obviously not comfortable with her interpretation. Then, suddenly, he leaned in real close to her face and shoved a couple of pig's feet in his mouth. "Mmmm," Daryl groaned as he licked his fingers, trying to be as loud and obnoxious as possible. "Gross," Beth protested as she stepped back. She knew Daryl was doing it on purpose to avoid answering her so she didn't push the issue. Beth undid the lid on a jar of peanut butter, while Daryl went through the food. "Hey, those pig's feet are mine," Daryl claimed. Beth rolled her eyes; he could have those disgusting things.

After they finished a mix and match kind of breakfast, Beth made her way into the living room. She ran her hand over all the beautiful books. On one shelf, she found an empty journal. Beth smiled, she had always loved writing. She began digging around the room trying to find a pen. "Lookin for this," came Daryl's voice from behind her. She turned to find a ballpoint pen in his extended hand. "Thank you," Beth said as she plucked the writing utensil out of his hand. She sat down on the floor in front of the coffee table and began to write. Putting all of her experiences onto paper helped her make sense of what had happened. For a while, Daryl sat across from her, just watching her write. Beth could feel his cobalt eyes burning a hole into her, there were few people that could do so much with just one look at Daryl Dixon. Beth had trouble writing, she tried her best to focus on the paper but on the edge of her vision those eyes demanded her attention. Beth hung her head, allowing her hair to fall over her face and create a small barrier between them. After a few minutes, Daryl stood up and without saying anything, he left the room.

Beth let out a breath of air she hadn't even realized she was holding in. The sound of nails being pounded and wood hitting the floor told Beth that Daryl had back to dismantling chairs and boarding up the windows. Beth turned her attention to her journal and began to write in earnest. Beth wasn't going to be able to write everything that had happened to her since the prison in one sitting, so she just wrote the most important memories. Footsteps rang out on the wooden floor and moved closer to Beth. A hand set a bottle of water and a couple more Aspirin on the coffee table beside her. The smell of dirt and sun reached Beth's nose. She looked up and Daryl just nodded at her before picking up his crossbow and walking out of the room.

Daryl's POV

Daryl had most of the house pretty tight and secure. He went outside to check the perimeter. To his surprise, the rope he had strung around the house the day before was lying on the ground. Daryl pulled his crossbow around to the front of him, something wasn't right. The redneck walked over to the rope and inspected it. He followed the line until he came to the problem. The rope had broken. Daryl picked up one end and ran his fingers over it. The rope was old, he had gotten it back on Hershel's farm. However, the end wasn't as frayed as he expected, it looked more like it had been cut. Daryl made quick inspection around the house and found nothing else amiss. He looked out into the forest, willing whatever was out there to come into his line of sight. On his second round of the house, Daryl looked for any signs of humans. There were no shoeprints, except for his own. Around the porch there was a patch of dirt that held what looked like an imprint of a canine paw. Daryl had always wanted a dog, ever since he was a child. As a boy, Daryl dreamed about having a good dog to go hunting with, of course that had never happened. If his father abused his own kids, Daryl could only imagine what he would have done to a dog. Daryl tied up the loose ends and made sure the rope was tight around the whole porch. Then, he headed back into the house, making sure to lock the front door.

A sad, beautiful music was echoing throughout the house. Daryl stopped for a moment, listening to the piano notes rise and fall. Beth was no longer at the coffee table writing. Daryl walked down the hall to find they young woman sitting at the piano. He had noticed the musical instrument while he had been dismantling chairs, but it hadn't meant much to him, wasn't like he could play. Beth's hands moved across the piano as she began to sing. "Pine for summer. Then we'll buy, a beer to shotgun. We'll lay on our lawn. And we'll be good…" Daryl closed his eyes as he remembered hearing that song play from the old, beat-up radio his dad had kept in their trailer. He watched as Beth played several more notes and then realized he needed to make his presence known. Daryl cleared his throat and Beth jumped. The music cut off abruptly and Daryl immediately missed it.

"The place is nailed up tight," Daryl told Beth, leaving out the part about the mystery of the broken rope. He set his crossbow on some fancy loveseat that he would have probably never been allowed to sit on before the apocalypse. Beth watched him with those big doe-like eyes of hers. Daryl looked around the room. He felt uncomfortable sitting in those finely cushioned chairs, and then his eyes landed on the coffin. It had padding all around it and looked real comfortable. He walked over to it while still talking to Beth. "The only way in is through the front door," he assured her. Then, he hoisted himself up onto the coffin and sat down. _Gosh, a waste to use such a comfortable bed on someone who is dead_. "What are you doing," Beth asked, watching him closely. Daryl laid down, "This is the comfiest bed I've had in years." Beth just stared in disbelief. "Really," she said, doubt coloring her voice. "I ain't kiddin," Daryl insisted. The last time he had laid in a bed was when he had gotten injured on Hershel's farm and Rick had dragged him inside to get stitched up. The cot back at the prison didn't count, it wasn't much better than the ground had been.

Daryl looked over at Beth, who was fidgeting with her hands. Daryl stared for a second, unsure of how to ask her to keep playing. He didn't normally make requests of people. "Why don't you go ahead and play some more," Daryl finally said. Beth looked up at him in surprise. "Keep singing," he encouraged. "I thought my singing annoyed you," Beth replied. Daryl remembered how he had yelled at her about her singing while he was drunk. "Well, there ain't no jukebox, so…," Daryl let his voice trail off. He could never just come out and say what he meant but he was sure that Beth understood. She smiled at him a little bit before turning back around to the piano. The notes rang out in the empty house and soon her voice joined them. "And we'll buy," she began, "beer to shotgun. And we'll lay in the lawn. And we'll be good. Now I'm laughing at my boredom and my string of failed attempts." Daryl leaned back and relaxed as the music washed over him. He looked over at the pretty blonde and brought his finger up to his lips. The redneck chewed on his fingernail while he watched Beth play. He had heard the song a thousand times as a kid, but suddenly it took on a whole new meaning when Beth played it. Daryl stared up at the ceiling because it was safer than watching the young girl.

When Beth finished, Daryl came over and put his arm around her. Slowly, he helped Beth up the steps to the closest bedroom. He remembered to give her more medicine and watched as she swallowed the pills. As he took the bottle from her, she pulled something off of the nightstand. "Daryl, I usually read before I got to sleep, would you like me to read out loud for you," she asked in her sweetest voice. Daryl had never been read to even as a child, at night his mother often had to put up with his drunk as shit father instead of tucking him into bed. Occasionally, he would read books on his own, but he was a very slow reader.

Daryl settled into a rocking chair of the corner of the room. Beth took that as a yes and began reading. It was the story of how a kid wanted a couple of coonhounds to go hunting with. Daryl leaned back enjoying the story, it reminded him a little bit of himself. While listening to the story, Daryl also watched Beth. She had all the sheets and pillows pulled around her and the book propped up on her knees. Daryl's eyes looked over her face and stopped on her lips, watching them move as she read. _Shit!_ Daryl turned away and didn't look back until Beth stopped reading. "We will have to read more tomorrow," she announced as she closed the book and set it on the nightstand. Daryl nodded and got up to leave. "Night Daryl," Beth said. "Night," Daryl replied before closing the door.

Once again, Daryl decided to sleep on the couch again. The beds upstairs were top quality, but they just felt wrong to him, he felt out of place in the house, it was all too nice. The main reason though was that he didn't want to be close to Beth. The redneck was afraid of the feelings he had when he was around her and thought it better to sleep as far away as possible. He retrieved his crossbow from the loveseat and put it on the coffee table. He sat down on the couch and put his head between his hands. That girl was going to be the end of him. He laid down, but didn't want to go to sleep. The night before, he had nightmares again. Every time he fell asleep, Daryl would relive the prison attack and see Hershel getting his head chopped off. It had to be worse for Beth, she had lost her father. The thoughts whirled around in Daryl's head and it became obvious that he wasn't going to get any sleep. He stood up and began checking all the rooms, making sure everything was in order. It was a habit he had developed while living in the prison. Often, he would wander like a ghost around the cells in the middle of the night just to make sure that everyone was where they needed to be.

Beth's POV

_Beth was curled up in her favorite armchair reading Pride and Prejudice. She turned the pages and read eagerly. "Beth," her father called from downstairs. "Coming," she replied. The young girl placed a bookmark on the page she had been reading and pounded down the stairs. "Daddy," she called, but the old man was nowhere in sight. Beth went through all the rooms in the house before heading outside. She turned the knob and opened it to find walkers roaming all around her front yard. With a scream, Beth slammed the door. A moan came from behind her and Beth whirled around. Her whole family was there, Hershel, Annette, Shawn, and Maggie. They were all shambling toward her with a blank expression on their decaying faces. Beth darted around them and ran up the stairs. The walkers followed her as she tried to make it to her room. Suddenly, a hand grabbed her ankle and she fell to the ground. Shawn had a firm grip and began gnashing his teeth. A gun appeared in Beth's hand and she raised it to her brother's head. She tried to pull the trigger but couldn't bring herself to do it. The other walkers were coming up the stairs and Beth knew she didn't have much more time. Beth pulled the release and watched as Shawn's body fell to the ground limp. Tears ran down her face as she ran into her room and slammed the door. Before Beth could turn the lock, a body slammed up against the door, threatening to open it. Moans filled the house and Beth sobbed as she tried to keep the door shut._

Beth sat right up in bed, sweat pouring down her body. She jumped up without caring that her ankle protested in pain. She had to get out of her bed, she had to get away from her nightmare. Beth flung open the door and ran straight into a warm body. Caught up in the moment, Beth wrapped her arms around Daryl's thick waist and began sobbing into his shirt.

Daryl's POV

Daryl had finished checking downstairs and began wandering up the steps. Just as he had gotten on the second floor, Beth's door had flown open. The young girl had run out of the room with a wild look on her face and slammed right into him. Daryl had swayed back a bit as her weight collided with his. Then, her arms were suddenly around him and bawls filled the silent house. Daryl stood there for a second, trying to take the whole scene in. Meanwhile, he could feel his shirt getting wet with Beth's tears.

Daryl was unsure of what to do, he wasn't experienced with comforting people. As a kid, he would console his mother after the old man had done a number on her, but other than that, Daryl had stayed away from that emotional shit. _Should have just stayed downstairs_. He raised his hand up and began stroking her blond hair. Beth clutched him harder, but her crying began to decrease. After several minutes, Daryl decided they couldn't just stand out in the hallway all night. He picked Beth up and carried her downstairs. She wrapped her fists into his shirt and buried her head in his chest. Daryl gently set her down on the couch and unwound her fists from his clothing. Then, he headed to the kitchen and pulled out the box of Oreos and got a glass of water. He brought them back to the living room and set them before Beth, hoping that they would appease her. The young woman didn't make a move to touch them. Daryl opened the package and took an Oreo out and put it in her hand. "It's gonna be alright," Daryl said, trying to be of some comfort, although he himself didn't believe the words he was saying. He had no clue what was going on but the blonde was obviously upset.

Beth nibbled on the Oreo and began talking incoherently between sobs. "My family, they were all there….I had to, but I didn't want to….I tried my best….Shawn," Beth cried. Daryl pulled Beth into his arms and let her cry. He didn't say anything, he didn't know what to say, so he just enfolded her in his arms and hoped that that was enough. After a while, Daryl realized that Beth had cried herself to sleep. He didn't want to wake her, so he just sat on the couch and held her in his arms while she slept. The redneck ran a finger over her check, wiping away one of her tears. The girl shifted in her sleep and wrapped her arms around him like she had hugged the pillow earlier. Daryl stared down at the innocent little creature that was attached to his waist. Her eyelashes were wet from the tears, but her face had lost all the fear and sadness. Daryl didn't know if he had ever seen a sight more captivating. As much as he wanted to stay there with Beth all night, Daryl knew he needed to find somewhere else to sleep. He planned stay for just a bit longer and then move to the bed upstairs, but he never got that far. Without knowing it, his eyes closed and soon both of them were out.

**An extra thank you to all my readers, I love to get feedback. While I'm writing this fanfiction for my personal enjoyment, I also want ya'll to enjoy it as well. Within a few chapters, I should be able to start putting in my version of what happened to Beth! Can't wait to see how that will turn out. The next week is full of craziness so there may not be another chapter for a little while but I will update ASAP.**


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm happy to finally get this chapter written. I really liked the idea of Beth and Daryl bonding while at the house and wanted to show how their relationship grows during that time, so I added an extra day in between their arrival and their separation. Enjoy!**

Beth's POV

Beth slowly drifted out of her peaceful dream. It hadn't been anything special, Beth was just hanging out with her friends after school. The girls didn't do anything out of the ordinary, they had just talked about boys and painted their nails, but the simplicity of it somehow made the dream very calming. Beth opened her eyes and took in the coffee table that was littered with Oreos and crumbs. _Where the heck am I? _Beth sat up and jumped as she felt an arm slide off of her shoulder. The young woman whipped around to find Daryl asleep behind her. Her heart stopped for a second as she took in his face. Daryl's hair stuck out tuffs and he had obviously been holding her while they slept. Everything came flooding back to Beth. The nightmare and the crying and the Oreos on the couch. Without warning, Daryl's eyes opened and she found herself staring straight into them. Beth knew Daryl had beautiful eyes, but she had never looked this closely before. Storm clouds seemed to swirl in those deep blue eyes. Unlike most of Daryl's hard and anti-social exterior, his eyes were full of emotion.

Caught off guard, Beth backed up, forgetting that she was on the narrow couch. Daryl caught her right before she fell and pulled her back, which brought her even closer to the tough man. "Damn girl, I just woke up and I already got to stop you from killing yourself," Daryl muttered. Beth could feel the blood run to her cheeks as she found her body pressed up against the handsome redneck. Beth suddenly felt self-conscious of the fact that she hadn't showered in several days, or even brushed her hair. "Ummmm," she stuttered, not sure where to begin. Daryl squinted up at her, still half-asleep. "I'm sorry about last night, I didn't mean to….I just, had a really bad nightmare and….," Beth trailed off, not wanting to talk about the horrible dream. "S' okay," Daryl said, "I wanted to get into those Oreos anyway." Beth nodded at him, grateful that he didn't push for an explanation.

Daryl sat up and ran his hand through his disheveled hair, which instantly went back to its normal position. Beth stared enviously; wishing that she could make her hair could do that. "How's your ankle," Daryl asked as he sat up. "Bit sore, but it is a lot better," Beth assured him. "Need to get it rewrapped," Daryl said, before standing up and disappearing through the door. He returned a few minutes later with the role of athletic tape. "This stuff is the duct tape of medicine," he informed Beth as he sat down in front of her. Daryl picked up her ankle and set it in his lap. He undid the previous wrap and examined her ankle. "Bit of swelling, but it has gone down. It should be good in a couple days," Daryl diagnosed. "You're awfully good at tending to my ankle, how did you learn to do that," Beth questioned. Daryl suddenly found the athletic tape very fascinating and stared at it closely while he worked. Beth began to feel that she had made him angry when he finally responded. "Practice," Daryl said in an emotionless voice without looking up, "For myself and for my mother, she would get beat up really bad by my old man whenever he got drunk. Neither of us could go to the hospital, there would be too many questions and it would cost too much money." Beth nodded. "Done," Daryl said as he patted her ankle, "you hungry?" Beth was but she also didn't want to use up the food supply too quickly. Daryl seemed to read her thoughts.

"How about I go hunting," he suggested. Beth looked up, an idea coming to her head. "Can I come with you," she asked eagerly. Daryl snorted. "With that busted up ankle of yours," he replied, "hell no! You're staying right here." Beth pouted, frustrated that she couldn't be more help, but she knew she would just get in the way.

Beth watched while Daryl laced up his boots and threw his crossbow over one shoulder. "I need to do somethin," Beth insisted, "I can't just sit around in my bed all day, I did that yesterday." Daryl looked over at her. "What do you want to do," he asked warily, as if he expected her to say she wanted to go on a ten mile jog. Beth looked around trying to come up with something. Her eyes landed on Daryl's stained and dirty vest. "How about some laundry," she suggested. The redneck raised his eyebrow. "What? Do I smell or somethin," he asked jokingly. Beth laughed, Daryl smelled wonderful but she wasn't about to tell him that. "I think I can smell pig's feet on you," she teased. "Alright," Daryl agreed, "but don't wander too far from the house. There is a pump for water at the bottom of the porch, but I don't want you going any farther than that." Beth nodded in agreement. Daryl took off his vest and threw it at her, "don't take out the smell of pig's feet, it gives it character." Beth rolled her eyes as Daryl walked out of the room.

Daryl's POV

Daryl stalked quietly through the forest. He worried every second he was away from Beth but hunting wasn't a process a person could just speed up. Daryl forced himself to move slowly so as to not scare off any prey. The redneck was only about a hundred yards into the woods, close enough to run back if anything happened. A couple of young sparrows darted through the trees, they weren't enough of a meal for Daryl to bother with them. The older man found a trail that had multiple deer tracks and hid himself nearby. As time ticked, Daryl became more impatient about getting back to Beth. Just as he was about to give up, a snort came from further down the trail. Daryl lifted his crossbow in anticipation. Slowly, a big buck came walking down the trail, it stopped every so often to nibble at leaves and grass. Daryl knees burned from crouching, but he didn't move a single muscle. The deer came closer and Daryl's finger curled around the release, the time was close. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, a dog bark came from off in the distance. The large animal instantly bolted and Daryl's bolt buried itself into a tree trunk. "Damn," Daryl cussed.

He had waited over and hour and been so close. Daryl yanked his bolt out of the tree and renotched his weapon. The man was in a horrible mood now. He began stalking back towards the house, annoyed at his luck. "Stupid ass dog," he muttered under his breath. As Daryl walked through the trees, he noticed a honking noise coming from above. He followed the sound to its source, which was a mesquite tree. A couple of geese were perched on the very top. Not a buck, but they would do. Daryl raised his crossbow up and shot the closest one right through the breast. It instantly fell and its partner took to the sky. Daryl picked the bird up, he hated plucking feathers out of fowl, but there wasn't much of an option. The redneck tied a string around the dead animal's feet and hung it from his belt so that his hands would be free.

As Daryl retraced his own footprints, he came across a walker, which instantly made a beeline for him. He shot it right between the eyes and continued on after retrieving his bolt. Daryl came out the woods that flanked the left side of the house. No walkers were around and Daryl heaved a sigh of relief. As the redneck crossed the graveyard, he was thinking of how Beth's eyes would light up when she saw the goose. Daryl stepped over the rope and walked up the porch. Wet clothes lay hanging over the rocking chairs. Daryl stared at them for a second. There was Beth's shirt and her jeans dripping water onto the wooden planks. The door squealed a bit as it was opened and Daryl turned around to find Beth holding his only other shirt and his vest, which were both dripping wet. A white billowy shirt that was a couple sizes too big hung on her small shoulders, it seemed to swallow her up. _She must have found it in one of the closets_.

When Beth noticed him, a huge smile spread across her face, just as he knew it would. The young girl's hair was tied back with a green bandanna and she had little smudges of dirt on her face. Daryl had never really been one to think of a girl as cute, but there wasn't any other way of describing Beth at that moment. "I know you will be disappointed that I washed out the smell of pig," Beth teased. Daryl shook his head, she was something else. "Can I help you with the goose, please," Beth pleaded. Daryl stared at her in wonder; most teenage girls wouldn't be jumping at the chance clean a bird. Something in him said that maybe it wasn't about the goose, but about being near him. The thought made him feel silly, a sweet girl like Beth wouldn't want to be anything more than friends with him. He grunted in agreement before pushing past her into the house. Daryl found a tarp and picked up his hunting knife before heading back outside. "Ready," he asked the young girl as she hung his clothing over porch rail. He didn't wait to see if she followed and headed out towards the graveyard.

Daryl walked a ways from the house and found patch of ground that was fairly flat. He laid the tarp out and set the goose on it. Beth sat down beside him with an excited look in her eyes. "Okay," Daryl began, "first thing you gotta do is pull all the feathers out." Daryl showed Beth by example how to firmly grab the feathers and rip them out of the goose. Once he had cleared a patch, he handed the bird to her. The young woman was hesitant at first, but after a few timid handfuls of feather, she began tugging them out like a pro. Beth was surprisingly good at cleaning the bird, her fingers were agile as they yanked the plumage from the pale skin. Daryl allowed his eyes to wander to the young woman's face and over the curve of her cheekbones. "Done," Beth said, looking up at him for guidance. Daryl turned away, cursing himself. _Focus on what your doing_. Daryl took his knife out and began using it to get rid of the fine, fluffy feathers. Once most of the bird was bare, Daryl showed Beth how to use his lighter to burn off any spots that were left. "Alright," he instructed, "now that it is plucked, we have to remove all the internal junk." Daryl had Beth cut along the stomach of the goose and told her what each organ was as they pulled them out. Beth's nose wrinkled each time she stuck her hand into the fowl's stomach, Daryl did his best to hide a smirk. Finally, when all that was left was muscle, skin, and bones, Daryl took Beth over to the pump and had her wash the blood off the semi-processed goose.

While Beth finished cleaning the goose, Daryl began collecting small twigs to start a fire. He added some old leaves and grass as fuel, the dead foliage caught fire immediately over Daryl's lighter. He watched as the flames spread and then added bigger pieces of wood. Daryl used his foot to disturb the grass all around the fire. He churned it up until he had a neat circle of dirt that would prevent the fire from spreading. The sun was high in the sky when they finally began to cook the goose. He made sure that Beth turned it regularly so that every single part was evenly cooked.

While sitting and watching the goose roast, Beth began talking. Daryl leaned back, enjoying her sweet voice. "Taking all the time to prepare this goose makes me appreciate how I used to be able to just buy it from the store," the young woman said as she reminisced, "for Thanksgiving, Daddy used to buy a gigantic turkey and we would have all the family over. I would always watch all of my young cousins and play with them until it was time to eat. Then, I would help set the table and bring in all the dishes. Daddy would pray and then we would all eat until we couldn't fit another bite." Daryl could imagine Beth, surrounded by children and carrying silverware to a big table. He had heard of families that would sit down and have meals together or invite the relatives over for holidays. To Daryl, such stories had seemed more like myths than reality. Only during the apocalypse had he begun to take part in such activities. The group would often eat together and at Hershel's home, Lori had put together several meals where everyone sat down at a nice table and ate and talked together. Daryl had been uncomfortable throughout each one of those dinners, but it was also amazing for him to see that such events actually occurred.

Here at the house, Daryl felt like he was experiencing more of all the things he had missed out on. Eating meals with Beth and talking to her was something he unexpectedly enjoyed. If they stayed, every single day he could eat breakfast with Beth and every night he could fall asleep after hearing her play the piano or read out of a book. It was like some kind of dream and Daryl dreaded the moment he would have to wake up from it. They needed to move on, the place was off and he knew it. It was what had to be done, but for a little while Daryl let himself imagine what it would be like if it didn't have to be that way. He looked over at Beth, who was concentrating on turning the goose. Despite having had her hands covered in blood and guts for the past hour, she seemed happy. Daryl enjoyed having Beth around, her happiness was just what he needed.

Beth suddenly looked over, catching him staring at her for the second time that day. Daryl looked down at the ground and began pulling at some of the grass. He could almost hear his brother's voice in his head saying "pull your head out of your ass baby brother, don't let some piece of tail get ya all messed up." Daryl tugged at a weed, purposefully not looking back up at Beth. Finally, he glanced at the goose to see that it was turning a pale golden color. "'S about done," Daryl informed Beth, "I can finish it while you set the table." Beth nodded and handed the stick with the goose over to Daryl. He carefully took it, careful not to touch her hand. Daryl positioned the bird over the fire as Beth stood up and brushed the dirt off the pair of jeans she must have found in the house.

"Thank you for going hunting Daryl," Beth said. Daryl was about to shrug off her compliment when she bent down and kissed him on the cheek. Daryl stiffened under her gentle touch, her cool lips felt soft against his rough skin. Her scent of peaches washed over him and filled every pore in his body. Too soon, Beth had pulled away and skipped off back towards the house. Daryl didn't move for several minutes after she left, trying to process what had just happened. _Don't get any ideas. Beth is a sweet girl and she doesn't mean anything, just bein nice, southern hospitality_. Despite the attempt to brush off Beth's actions as merely being pleasant, Daryl's cheek tingled and he couldn't get the feel of her lips out of his head.

Beth's POV

Beth hummed as she searched the kitchen for plates. She was so lucky to have Daryl around to hunt for them. Not only could they eat from the wonderful stash of food that was in the house, but a whole goose as well! Beth set a jar of pig's feet at Daryl's spot as a reward for his hard work. Next, Beth rummaged through the pantry to find utensils; they were going to be eating in style tonight. She went to the closet and retrieved two water bottles, one for each of them.

As Beth worked, her mind wandered over to Daryl. When Beth had gotten up from roasting the goose, she had wanted to show Daryl how much she appreciated all that he did for her. Looking down at him she had just suddenly just kissed him on the cheek. Beth's own cheeks burned at the memory. The blonde knew that Daryl wasn't one for close contact and she may have overstepped some boundaries, but it had just seemed so natural at the time. Beth chuckled to herself as she remembered how Daryl had turned to stone under her touch. The redneck was so averse to any close contact that it was almost fun to mess with him. The slamming of the door brought Beth out of her thoughts. Daryl came through the kitchen holding the roasted goose. He set it on the plate and took a seat.

"Let's pray," Beth suggested. Daryl grumbled and hung his head. "Dear Lord," Beth intoned, "thank you for this wonderful meal and shelter. Watch over us and our friends and family, keep them safe wherever they may be. Amen." Daryl raised his head and stared at the food. He fidgeted, as if he was unsure if he was supposed to start eating or if there were other formalities they would go through. Beth handed him a knife and indicated that he cut the goose. Daryl easily sliced through the bird and placed some of the fresh meat on her plate before serving himself. Beth mused at Daryl's natural table manners. Beth chewed the goose and found that it was delicious. She was used to talking at the dinner table back at the farm, but she didn't know how to start a conversation with Daryl. Finally, an idea came to her. "My family used to say the best and the worst thing that happened to them at each dinner," she told Daryl, who looked up from his meal. "The best thing that happened to me today was eating this fine goose and the worst is that I couldn't go hunting with you because of my ankle," Beth said, "now it's your turn." Daryl stared down at his plate and brought his fingers up to his lips, the same way he had when Beth had asked him to play Never Have I Ever. After a moment of thought, Daryl replied, "Best thang is that we have food, worst is the deer I was hunting got scared off." He looked up at Beth, as if checking if his answer was acceptable. Beth smiled at him to show that it was.

When they finished, Beth cleared the table and put the leftover goose on the kitchen counter for dinner. "Your ankle," Daryl asked, looking at her with concern. Beth realized she had been limping slightly. "It's fine, but I could use some more medicine. Daryl nodded and disappeared. He returned shortly with two pills and Beth obediently swallowed them. Then, Daryl went back out to clean his bolts. Beth made her way upstairs and picked up the novel by her bedside. _It's a wonderful day to read outside_. Beth headed back to the porch and sat down in one of the wooden rocking chairs. She pulled her legs up onto the chair and watched as Daryl finished taking care of his bolts. His long hair fell over his eyes and his lean muscles in his arms stood out. Beth liked his little quirks, like not wearing shirts with sleeves. Finally, Daryl was satisfied with the condition of his weapons and he came up onto the porch and sat down in the second rocking chair.

"Why don't you read a little," he suggested, pointing at the book in her lap. Beth smiled, she was glad that Daryl enjoyed the book; she had chosen the novel because it had seemed like a story he would like. She found the place where they had left off and began to read. As she got to the part about Billy walking all the way to the depot to pick up his puppies, Beth suddenly felt something change in the atmosphere. She didn't need to look up to know that Daryl was staring at her as she read aloud. His intense blue eyes seemed to burn a hole into her, but she pretended not to notice. When Beth had realized Daryl was staring at her earlier, he had always turned away and she didn't want that to happen again. Finally, Beth's voice became horse and she ended their reading session with Billy naming his two puppies Old Dan and Little Ann. The pair sat outside, enjoying the quiet peaceful day. Beth could almost imagine that the turn had never happened. She enjoyed the warm heat and safety of being near the house and Daryl. They both stayed until the sun set, enjoying the moment in silence and not wanting to break the peaceful atmosphere. When Daryl and Beth had first started traveling together, Beth had found the long silences awkward and uncomfortable, but now they were just relaxing.

Once it was too dark to see, Beth stood up and went inside. Not long later, Daryl followed. Beth went upstairs to the room she was staying in. The whole house was silent and suddenly Beth felt very lonely. She remembered her nightmare from the night before and shivers ran down her spine. She went over to the dresser and fumbled around in the dark until she found some loose nightwear. After changing, Beth got into bed and sighed as she leaned back into the fluffy, soft sheets. It was heaven to sleep in a real bed. Her door squeaked as Daryl opened it. He quietly entered and made his way over. It was took dark to make out more than his silhouette. "You need any more medicine," he asked. Beth's ankle was sore, but she didn't want to use up all the precious tablets, they might need them later. "No," Beth replied, shaking her head. "Alright," Daryl said in a husky voice as he turned to go.

Beth's nightmare flashed in her memory and suddenly her arm shot out on its own, catching onto the end of Daryl's shirt. He stopped and turned around, looking down at her expectantly. Beth didn't know how to ask, she fidgeted and tried to find the words. "Can you…uhhh," she stuttered. _Spit it out girl_! Beth swallowed and looked up at Daryl's outline. "Can you stay? I sleep better when you're around," she requested. Although it was hard to see in the dark, Beth could have sworn that Daryl's face turned red. He suddenly turned and headed for the door without saying a word. Beth's heart sank as she watched him walk away.

When Daryl reached the door, instead of going through it, he shut it and kicked his shoes off. Then, he silently walked back and pulled back the covers. "Well git in," he demanded. Beth quickly got underneath the sheets and Daryl sat down on the opposite side. "Thank you," Beth whispered, still surprised that he had agreed. "Just git some sleep," Daryl mumbled as he laid down with his back to her. Beth could feel his heat radiating from his body even though a whole couple of feet separated them. His scent filled her nostril. Jimmy had always smelled like cologne, but for some reason Beth had never found that very attractive. Knowing that it was a manufactured odor had always turned her off. Daryl's natural earthy scent was much more appealing. Trying not to be too obvious, Beth scooted closer to Daryl until their backs were touching. It felt good to have Daryl beside her, with him around, Beth felt safe.

Daryl's POV

Daryl didn't know why he had agreed to Beth's suggestion. Her hand tugging at his shirt had caught him off guard and he had looked down to those big blue eyes asking him to stay with her. How could he refuse a sweet girl like Beth? Even as Daryl had shut the door and taken his shoes off, he knew he was making a bad decision. Beth was more than ten years younger than him, he shouldn't be sleeping in the same bed as her, much less the same house. He shouldn't have fallen asleep with her the night before either. However, to wake up with Beth in his arms was nothing short of a dream. He remembered how her eyes had widened in surprised and how he had to catch her before she fell off the couch. Daryl could almost imagine that she felt the same way about him, almost. Even if a sweet girl like Beth could ever feel anything for a rough, uncouth guy like him, she was forbidden to him. Beth was no longer a little girl, but she was still much too young and too good for him.

Daryl had never felt this way about another woman. All the whores Merle had brought home had made his skin crawl. They all stank of alcohol and drugs and left glitter all over his bed. A couple of times he had almost had gotten intimate with a couple of them. However, when it came to taking clothes off, they would see the scars on his back and ask questions and he would suddenly be out of the mood. A couple of times, Daryl had kicked the sluts out of the house, even though they were only half dressed. Daryl had never really dated, he had never wanted to start a family, he wasn't sure he knew how to be a boyfriend or a father. With Beth though, Daryl felt comfortable. Daryl turned onto his back and looked over at Beth's sleeping face. She had moved closer to him and the ends of her blonde hair brushed his right arm. _How the hell was he supposed to sleep with her right next to him_? Daryl watched the young woman as her chest moved up and down with her breath.

Suddenly, she moaned a bit and turned closer to him. _Was she having another nightmare_? Daryl tensed, waiting to see if he needed to wake her. His anxiety made him lean in closer as he tried to figure out what was going on. _Was her ankle bothering her, she hadn't taken the medicine_? "Daryl," Beth breathed, so softly he almost thought he had imagined. Daryl's heart jumped, could she possibly be dreaming about him? Daryl watched as Beth quit tossing. Never before had anyone made his name sound so good. Beth mumbled incoherently and suddenly wrapped her arms around him the way she had done with the pillow. Daryl froze, unsure of how to get himself untangled without waking her up. After several minutes, Daryl gave into the contact and pulled Beth into his arms. He laid his head down next to Beth's and breathed in the scent of her hair.

Under any other circumstances, Daryl would have never let things go as far as they already had. However, being away from the group and any other civilization, Daryl could almost forget his past and how wrong it was for him to be with her. Daryl had never wanted anything as bad as he did at that moment. He wanted to hold the precious girl in his arms every night and wake up to her smell every morning. Even if things between them never went farther than snuggling at night and teasing each other throughout the day, Daryl would be perfectly content. The last thing he thought before falling asleep was, "maybe we can try staying here, see how it works out."

**Pretty soon, I will be getting to the point where Daryl and Beth are separated. My plan is to continue doing the two separate points of views for each of them. I will be sticking to the TV series plot about Daryl ending up in Joe's group and meeting up with Rick and going to Terminus. During his POV, I could add his thoughts and extra tidbits. However, I would like ya'lls opinion on whether or not to do Daryl's POV, since TV viewers already know the main things that happen to him during that time. In the end, I will do whichever I think shapes the story the best, but I would like to consider any advice ya'll are willing to give so that I can make the best story possible. Thanks so much for the support and I hope to get the next chapter up soon!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you everyone who wrote a review. I am glad to hear that ya'll are enjoying the POVs and I will keep doing them throughout the series. As for a question I received about splitting from the events of the show that will not really be happening in this particular story. I plan to build off of the end of season 4 and develop the story from there. However, maybe once I finish I will go back and write a separate fanfiction that takes a different route. Once again, thank you for all of ya'll support and I hope you enjoy this next chapter!**

Daryl's POV

Daryl woke up early in the morning, the light was barely beginning to come through the windows. Beth was still fast asleep, the streams of sunlight hit her hair, making it appear golden. Looking at the precious girl curled up in his arms Daryl felt happy and ashamed at the same time. He quietly untangled himself and got out of the bed. He looked down at Beth, who had her arms lying in the empty space where he had slept. Handmade bracelets decorated her left wrist. They covered up the scar that had been left by her suicide attempt. Daryl ran his fingers over the yarn and beads briefly before leaving the room. He went downstairs and checked all the rooms. Everything appeared to be locked up just as tight as the night before. Daryl glanced out the window to make sure everything was clear before he went outside. The rope was still tied tightly around the perimeter of the house and nothing seemed to be amiss. Daryl relaxed. _Maybe the broken rope was an accident, it had been old after all_.

His clothes and Beth's were still out on the porch where they had been left to dry. Daryl figured it was about time to wear clean clothes. Just as he was about to pull his yellow checkered shirt over his head, he noticed that Beth's scent was on it. Instead of taking it off, Daryl picked up the fresh long-sleeved maroon shirt from off the porch railing and layered it over the first one without bothering to button it up. Daryl hadn't had his clothes washed by anyone since he was a kid and his mother had still been alive. Next, he pulled his vest on, enjoying its familiar presence. Several years before the outbreak, Merle had come home with several drunk friends and the guys had left their shit lying all over the house. When none of them came back for their stuff, Daryl had taken over anything that was worth having. One cool morning, when Daryl had been heading out to hunt, the vest had caught his attention. It had just been draped over the couch, so Daryl had decided to make use of it. He never planned on keeping it, but the vest had grown on him.

Daryl gathered up Beth's clothes and took them up to the room. He set them on the end bed before going back downstairs. The house was quiet except for a few creaks that would occasionally come from the old floorboards. The redneck headed into the kitchen and began scavenging around. An idea popped into Daryl's head and he started searching around for peanut butter and peaches, a couple of Beth's favorite foods. He put them on the table and added some pig's feet for himself. He snatched a couple bottles of coke and set one at each spot. Daryl looked at the haphazard meal. He had never set the table for a meal before. As a kid, his family almost never ate together and when it was just him and Merle, they had each fended for themselves, eating whenever they pleased. However, somewhere Daryl was sure that he had heard that families took turns making meals and setting the table. He hoped his feeble attempt at setting out breakfast was good enough for Beth. Daryl went up the stairs and stood outside the room. He could hear Beth moving around inside. He raised his hand up and knocked softly on the door.

Beth's POV

Beth was pulling the newly washed shirt over her head when she heard a knock at the door. "Comin," she yelled through the door as she straightened out the yellow fabric. Then, she opened the door to find Daryl standing there, looking awkward. "Ummm, I got breakfast for ya," he muttered, not making eye contact. Beth felt her lips tug up into a grin. Daryl was acting shy because he was embarrassed about doing something nice for her. "Thank you," she said, giving him her biggest smile, "I'm starvin." He nodded but looked a little less uncomfortable. She closed the door behind her and followed him down the stairs.

Her ankle was feeling much better, but Beth still had to lean on the rail a bit to make it down the steps. She went slowly, not wanting to hurt it again when it was healing so well. Daryl was at the bottom of the steps waiting for her and fidgeting impatiently. "I'm goin as fast as I can," Beth told Daryl, who looked like a young kid waiting to show her a surprise. Suddenly, his footsteps rang out and he was right by her side. "Forget that," he said as he scoped her into his arms, his woodsy scent enveloped her. Beth gasped at the sudden contact as she was carried down the stairs. She was used to Daryl drawing away or stiffening up under her touch, not being the one to initiate it. Daryl kicked the kitchen door open and took Beth over to her seat. "Here ya go," he grunted as he set her down gently in the chair. "Whew," Daryl breathed as he took the seat across from her. Beth looked over the food on the table and was touched that Daryl had thought to prepare breakfast. She didn't think anyone had ever done something so nice for her before, or maybe it was that such small gestures meant a lot more in the world they lived in now.

"All right," came his husky voice from across the small counter, "Let's eat." Daryl began twisting a lid on the can of pig's feet and Beth wondered what he thought was good about those gross slimy snacks. She was opening the peanut butter when a clatter came from outside. Beth looked up, Daryl had put down the jar and was listening. He grabbed his crossbow from under the table and pointed at her. "Stay," he commanded, like she was a dog or something. Then, he disappeared around the corner. Beth waited, her heart pounding. _What if the owners had returned?_ She heard the door open. Beth stood, not sure if she needed to hide or go introduce herself. She reached down to the knife that hung from her belt buckle and felt reassured by its presence. "It's just a damn dog," Daryl hollered from the doorway. Beth let out a breath in relief before processing the statement. A dog?!

Daryl's POV

Daryl reached out toward the one-eyed mutt. "Hi," he said, trying not to sound threatening. This must have been the dog the scared off his deer the other day. "Com'ere boy," Daryl encouraged as he tried to pet the scraggly animal's head. Just before his finger could touch the creature's blonde fur, it yelped and ran back under the rope, causing the cans to rattle. The dog streaked off back towards the woods and out of sight. Daryl stood up, nothing he could do if the dog was too scared to come near him. He didn't blame it, half of the human population would probably tear the mutt to shreds and eat it raw with the way things were now. Daryl shut the door and turned to head back to the kitchen when he came face to face with Beth. "He wouldn't come in," she questioned, trying to peer around him and look out the window. "I told you to stay back," Daryl admonished. The young woman turned her attention to him, her eyes sparkling. "Yeah, but Daryl," she continued, undaunted by his scolding, "you said there was a dog." As Daryl looked into her hopeful eyes, he felt his anger melt away. "Well, maybe he'll come back around," Daryl said as he took her shoulder and turned Beth back towards the kitchen, "Com'on."

They sat back down and Daryl dug into the pig's feet. He watched as Beth ate the peanut butter straight out of the jar, a content smile on her face. Suddenly, Daryl was happy he had set the table. As Beth shifted in her chair to get another scoop of peanut better, Daryl's caught a glimpse of a silver chain that flickered into view from under her shirt collar. Before he had even thought about it, the question jumped from Daryl's lips. "Why you always wear that necklace," he asked, pointing at her neck. Beth looked up at him and then down at the jewelry. She pulled it out from under her shirt and showed it to him. There was two little silver hearts, one inside of the other. "This necklace was a present from my momma. It was supposed to be my graduation gift, but when the walkers started appearing, she decided to go ahead and give it to me because it didn't seem like I would be graduating any time soon," Beth answered as she fingered the precious jewelry. Daryl inclined his head. He had always thought Beth wore it for the reason all women wore jewelry, just because they liked it. However, her answer held much more meaning than he had expected.

Once they finished, Daryl helped clear the table and brought in water from outside so that Beth could wash the dishes. While she cleaned, Daryl paced around the house. There were a couple of windows that he hadn't boarded up yet. He considered finding wood for them, but then decided that an escape route may be necessary at some point. There was no back door, so a window would be their only way out if anything ever happened. Daryl brought his fingers up and ran them across his lips as he considered what would make the house safer. It came as a shock when Daryl realized what he was doing. He was trying to secure the house like they would be staying there rather than moving on. "It's just till her ankle heals," Daryl told himself firmly before heading back to the kitchen.

Beth had finished the dishes and looked up when he entered. Her big blue eyes followed him as he paced across the room. "Daryl, will you teach me to set snares," Beth's voice asked from across the kitchen, "once I get better I want to be able to pull my own weight, you can't be the only one catching food." Daryl didn't think Beth was a burden, but he could understand that she wanted to feel like she was contributing. "Well," he began, "the first thing you need to do is find some thin flexible wire or rope, if you can find that I will teach you." Her eyes widened in excitement and she rushed off to search the house. Daryl liked how Beth was always eager to learn new things, even when the lessons were over matters like shooting and skinning animals. Beth had a soft side to her that liked riding horses and writing in her journal, but there was also a tough side to her that enjoyed the outdoors. It was that side of her that made her not content with just staying alive, but it made her want to learn how to fend for herself.

Just as Daryl finished the last thought, Beth burst in with fishing line and dropt it into his hands. She looked up at him expectantly. "Now will you teach me," she almost begged. Daryl could feel his lips twitching upward. "Alright, hold your horses," he said as she took his hand and began tugging him toward the door. He couldn't help it, a small smile came to his face as he felt Beth's little hand tug at his calloused one.

Beth's POV

Beth did her best to pay close attention as Daryl explained how to make a snare. They were just making practice ones out in front of the house because Daryl didn't want her to walk all about the woods with her ankle. Beth had insisted that her ankle was almost healed, but the older man had wanted to stay on the safe side. "You only want to set a snare where there are signs of animal activity, so look for water, food, animal shit, or tracks," he lectured. Beth's eyes roamed over his muscular arms, remembering how good it felt to be carried in them. Daryl's messy hair fell over his eyes, but they still shined bright blue from under the dark strands. "Are you even listening?" Beth jumped as Daryl's voice cut through her distracted thoughts. "Yes," she replied, a little faster than necessary. Daryl stared at her for a minute, but then let it drop and continued talking about snares. After he finished, he began showing her how to loop the snare to make a noose at one end. They practiced several times and when Beth finally managed to do one without Daryl's instruction, he reached over and tousled her hair. "Good job," Daryl said, making Beth beam because she knew he didn't give praise lightly. Daryl stood up and brushed off the grass on his jeans before reaching down to help her up. Beth's arm tingled where his hand touched her skin.

Once they were inside the house, Beth grabbed her journal and the pen before heading into the kitchen. After moving the jars of peanut butter and pigs feet, she had just enough space on the small table to write at. The familiar action soothed her and the words seemed to flow from the pen and onto the paper .Beth wrote down every word that Daryl had told her about snares, she didn't want to forget the important information. When Beth finished her description of where to place the snares, she took the time to draw a diagram of how to knot the snare. Once it was complete, Beth took the illustration and began looking for Daryl so that he could confirm that she had drawn it correctly. She looked into the piano room, but it was empty. Next, Beth entered the living room, where Daryl was stretched out on the couch. His eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and steady.

Beth was about to leave, she didn't want to wake Daryl up from his nap, but something stopped her. The older man's face looked so peaceful and serene in his sleep that Beth couldn't stop staring. She quietly inched closer, amazed by the sight of Daryl, who looked like he was several years younger. He didn't have the usual walls up around him; he just laid there like an open book for her to read. Beth had never thought facial hair was very attractive, but somehow Daryl managed to pull the look off. Beth had a sudden urge to run her hand along the side of Daryl's face, just to see what it felt like. She struggled with the impulse and was still deciding when a voice interrupted her thoughts.

"It's not polite to stare at people while they sleep," said Daryl in a matter-of-a-fact voice. His eyelids slowly rose until his bright blue eyes were piercing into hers. _How long had he been awake?_ Beth could feel her cheeks flush and knew she had no excuse for her behavior. "I was….ummm," Beth mumbled incoherently before she remembered the reason she had been looking for him. "I want you to check my drawing of a snare," she said as she thrust the journal towards him, trying to change the subject. He extended his arm out and took it from her. As he was looking over the sketch, Beth took a seat on the floor beside the couch and watched as his eyes narrowed with focus. A sort of electricity seemed to hang in the air between them and Beth felt sure that if she touched Daryl right now, she would get receive a small shock. Finally, Daryl handed the journal back to her. "Ya did it right," he said before he sat up.

"How long was I out for," he asked. Beth realized that she had lost track of time during her writing. She glanced at the boarded up window to see that no light was seeping through. "It's already dark," she answered. "Mmm," Daryl grumbled, "we should get somethin to eat." Beth nodded, wanting to escape the tension in the room and at the same time never wanting to stay. Daryl stood up and headed toward the kitchen. Beth continued sitting on the floor, staring down at her feet. _What had just happened_? Beth had known she had a crush on Daryl, but with crushes she usually didn't get so carried away as to get caught watching them sleep. Her cheeks flushed red again at the memory. However, the atmosphere that had arisen the moment their eyes had met made Beth feel like she wasn't the only one having thoughts. _Don't be silly, it's Daryl, he wouldn't think nothing of me, I'm getting carried away_. Beth wanted to bury her head into her hands and never come out, but she knew Daryl was waiting in the kitchen.

Upon entering the room, Beth saw that Daryl was already pulling food out of the cabinet. It appeared that dinner was going to be a repeat of breakfast, they had forgotten lunch entirely. Beth sat down with her journal, she wasn't quite ready to eat yet. Daryl began digging into the pigs feet as Beth pulled a sheet of paper from her journal. Daryl looked up at the sound of ripping paper and his questioning eyes found hers. "I'm gonna leave a thank-you note," Beth explained. "Why," Daryl asked before turning his attention back to the meal. "For when they come back," Beth replied, "If they come back that is." Lately she had started to wonder if the owner was dead, they hadn't seen anyone since they arrived several days ago. However, her mama had taught her to always thank those who had helped her. Manners were something that had been trained into Beth at a young age. "Even if they're not coming back, I still want to say thanks," Beth decided. She bent her head down and began thinking of how to begin the letter, she didn't even know who to address it to. Daryl's rough voice cut through the quiet air, "maybe you don't have to leave that." Beth looked up, confused. Daryl wasn't paying attention to her, he was digging around in the pickled pig's feet jar with a spoon. "Maybe we can stick around here for a while," he said in a casual voice as if he was suggesting that they do laundry or go to bed early. He finally quit staring down at the food and looked her straight in the eyes. "When they come back," he continued, "we'll just make it work. I mean, they may be nuts, but maybe it'll be alright."

Beth took a moment to process what Daryl had just said. He wanted to stay here, just the two of them. He also hadn't said that he would handle the owner the way he originally had when he was giving her a piggyback ride to the house. Beth could feel a familiar smile creeping onto her face. "So you do think there are still good people around," she stated, happy that he was finally giving strangers the benefit of the doubt. Daryl shifted in his chair uncomfortably and shrugged his shoulders. "What changed your mind," Beth asked, curious. The redneck glanced between her and the jar in his hand a couple times without saying anything. Finally he replied. "You know," he muttered vaguely. "What," Beth pushed, wanting him to explain his sudden change in heart. Daryl stared at her for a second, as if wondering if she would drop the matter. Beth stared at him, not willing to change the subject. "I don't know," Daryl mumbled, looking away. "Don't…," Beth said as she replicated his mumbling, "What changed your mind?" The older man didn't say anything, he just stared at Beth. Daryl didn't need words to say what he was feeling, his eyes held it all.

The earlier electricity began to build and suddenly it all clicked into place. The piggyback, the crossbow lessons, the breakfast, everything that Daryl had done for her. He had been there for her when she had nightmares and held her the whole night. Sure, Beth knew Daryl was a good guy despite the uncaring and cold exterior he often chose to show to people. However, if he was just watching out for her, he wouldn't have to be so sweet and helpful. He normally wasn't sweet, Maggie had always told her how Daryl would cuss and yell at people out on food runs. Daryl had feelings for her! The idea was so revolutionary that all Beth could manage to say was a small "Oh!"

Before either of them could continue the conversation, cans began rattling outside and there was the sound of a dog barking. "Ugh," Daryl growled as he dropped his spoon into the jar of pig's feet. "I'm gonna give that mutt one more chance," he grumbled as he rose from the table. Beth sat in her seat frozen, not moving even after he had left the kitchen. Beth had known she had feelings for Daryl for a while now, but she had never imagined that Daryl reciprocate those feelings. Looking back it suddenly seemed so obvious, every touch and every glance that had been shared between them, the nights curled up next to each other. Beth tried to wake herself from the haze that had enveloped her mind, she still couldn't quite believe what had just happened. Beth was trying to figure out what to tell Daryl when he returned when his voice caused her to jump.

"BETH! BETH," he hollered from the hallway. Adrenaline and fear shot through Beth as she got up to help. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the crossbow that Daryl must have left under the table. She grabbed the heavy weapon and ran as fast as she could out of the kitchen. Daryl had himself braced against the door and snarls were coming from outside. A decaying hand reached through the crack and tried to grab at Daryl's shirt. The redneck lifted an arm, reaching for his crossbow. Beth threw his weapon to him as he struggled to keep the door closed. "Run," he yelled at her as he reloaded the crossbow. She turned and ran past the staircase. "Run," Daryl yelled again as he fired at the hoard, "Beth, the window! Get your shit!" Beth ran into the living room and threw her backpack over her shoulder; luckily most of her supplies were already packed. She rushed back out into the hallway as Daryl continued firing at the walkers.

"I'm not going to leave you," she shouted over the groans. Daryl turned around and pushed her further back into the hallway. "Go out! Go up the road, I'll meet you there," he hollered as he shoved her into the piano room and shut the door. Beth tried not to sob in fear and ran to the one window that wasn't boarded up. As she undid the latches, she could hear Daryl's voice leading the walkers away. However, some hadn't followed and were pounding at the door. Beth finally got the window open and she tumbled out of the opening just as walkers burst into the room. It took her a moment to take in her surroundings. Corpse were milling around the entire house. She pulled her knife out and stabbed the nearest one. It fell to the ground and Beth began running toward the road, dogging walkers along the way.

Daryl's POV

Daryl had run down into the basement, it being the only place left to go. He had to lead the walkers away from Beth. He shot the first one coming down the stairs before he realized that he was out of bolts. "Shit," he cussed, looking around for anything that he could use. Scissors and other sharp dissection tools sat on the counter. Daryl threw his crossbow away, it was as good as useless without bolts. He grabbed the sharp instruments as the sound of walkers got closer. They were almost on him. Daryl took one last pair of scissors and yanked the cart with the dead body on it so that it was between him and the walkers. Not a moment after he had positioned the metal cart, the walkers were slamming against it, pushing him and the cart into the wall. Daryl's side screamed in pain at the pressure and rotting hands began reaching for him. Daryl took one of the scissors and began stabbing at the closest heads. When enough of them had fallen, Daryl managed to push the cart far enough away to slip under. He crawled on the floor as the brainless corpses tried to figure out where he had gone. Daryl managed to make it to the second cart, which used to push the walkers into the wall and away from himself. They struggled against him and another was coming down the stairs.

Daryl gathered all his strength and pushed the cart away. In a swift movement, he stabbed the oncoming walker without bothering to withdraw the scissors. Then, he grabbed his crossbow and ran up the steps, he heart pounding. A walker lay slumped against the wall with one of his bolts through its left eye socket. Daryl yanked the ammunition out and continued upward. When he came to the main floor, there were a few walkers stumbling around, but he quickly dispatched them. Daryl headed for the door, but stopped by the kitchen to grab a large steak knife. _Beth_! Daryl sprinted out of the house and jumped over the rope that was meant to protect them. _How had the walkers gotten so close without them noticing_? It wasn't something Daryl had time to dwell on. He wound his way through the gravestones, his eyes searching desperately for a glimpse of that blonde head.

Beth's POV

Beth's feet pounded against the grass as she made her way to the road. It was dark, but the moon shone bright enough for her to make out the path in front of her. Once she got to the meeting point, she looked back to see the house being overrun with walkers. The despicable bodies roamed all around the graveyard, moaning and groaning like something out of a horror movie. A sob escaped her throat and Beth was overcome with guilt. She should have stayed and helped Daryl. He was strong and a good fighter, but even he could be outnumbered. She waited for the redneck to come out but the only movement she detected was the stumbling of uncoordinated corpses.

A rustling came from the bushes nearby and Beth raised up her knife, ready for action. A straggling walker burst out from the woods and headed for Beth. She pulled the knife back as adrenaline coursed through her blood. She ran at the monstrosity and buried her knife deep in the skull. The walker fell to the ground and dragged her with it. Beth struggled to pull her blade out, but it was stuck. Beth wrapped both hands around the handle and was just about to give a gigantic tug when a painful burst exploded on the back of her head. Beth sank to the pavement as pain racked her body. The young girl looked up and tried to see her attacker. Her eyes showed dark human form in-betweens swirls of colors and black spots. Rough hands grabbed her and Beth tried to push them away. On instinct, Beth kicked out and managed to connect with flesh. A man's voice hollered in pain and dropped her.

Beth started crawling away, but suddenly a force from her backpack began dragging her back. Beth quickly slipped her arms out and fell back onto the ground. The blond tried to clear her head and look for Daryl. Without warning, another blow landed on the side of her head and Beth felt her body give. She lay hurting on the pavement until a pair of hands picked her up and threw her over a man's shoulder. Beth struggled to make sense of up and down as she was being lifted. Suddenly, she was weightless again before slamming down onto a carpeted surface. The light suddenly disappeared and the sound of a slamming hood rang in her ears. Beth tried to sit up, but her head was spinning. The rumbled of an engine starting drowned out everything but the ringing in Beth's ears. "BETH!" The young girl turned her head, trying to pinpoint the noise, but it was quiet and sounded far away. "BETH!" Beth's head pounded and Beth tried to reach out towards the voice. "Daryl," she whispered before going unconscious.


	10. Chapter 10

**It took me a long time to get this chapter the way I wanted it. I changed it multiple times but I think I finally got it how I wanted it. If not, well now it is posted so it is too late! I also took a while with this chapter because I have had finals this week. But luckily that is over so now I can hopefully get the next chapter up sooner! Enjoy!**

Beth's POV

A bucket of ice-cold water poured over Beth, jolting her back into consciousness. She gasped and tried to back away, but was stopped by a metal shackle that surrounded her right ankle. As Beth sat up, the right side of her head pounded and felt like it was twice its normal size. "That's right, wake up girlie," said a man's voice from above her. Beth looked up at the speaker, who was a middle aged man holding an empty plastic bucket. The guy had filthy stringy hair and dirt brown eyes. Stubble covered his chin and he was a bit overweight. He had a gun strapped to his waist but didn't appear to carry any other weapons. Beth shuffled as far away from him as she could and bumped into a body with her back. She whirled around to find that another girl was tied next to her. The woman looked to be a bit younger than Beth and had long black hair that hung over her face. Her rich almond skin was disrupted by purple and yellow bruises. The teenager had her arms wrapped around her legs and appeared determined to stare at the wall.

Beth was still taking everything in when the door at the opposite end of the room opened and another man stepped in. He was tall with short blonde hair and light blue eyes. He appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties. The man's jaw line was square and he had a nicely trimmed beard. His clothes were clean and he didn't appear to be carrying a single weapon on him. He carried himself with confidence and a self-assurance that reminded Beth of another well groomed man, the Governor. The thought of the Governor caused Beth to shiver more than any freezing bucket of water ever could.

"Well what do we have here," asked the handsome man in a soothing voice as he crossed the room. He walked right up to Beth and reached for her face. Beth tried to turn away but he grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Ah, yes, you will do quite nicely," he purred. Beth's skin crawled, she didn't know what the man meant, but she felt sure that whatever he had in store for her wasn't good. "My name is Seth, what is yours," Seth asked. Beth just glared, she wasn't about to answer his questions. He chuckled a bit. "A feisty one eh? Haven't had one of those in a while," Seth taunted, his sweet smile contradicting his malicious words. Beth was relieved when he released her face and turned his attention to the first man.

"David, where did you get this one," he demanded, pointing his finger at Beth. The older man, David, jumped at Seth's command. "Dean and I picked her from the house at the upper eastern edge of our territory," David replied. "We had gone to set up some traps in the new house only to realize that it was already being occupied. We watched carefully and got lucky when a herd came through. We lured them toward the house so that they would flush out the intruders. Dean and I had just gone up the road a ways to watch the show when this piece of eye candy came tumbling out a window," David looked down at Beth with a predatory smile. Beth wanted to curl up in a ball like the girl beside her, but tried her best to keep on a tough face. She couldn't let these men know how scared she was. She had to be strong like Maggie was during her ordeal with the Governor. "She ran right toward us so we hid. A walker burst out and while she was killing it, we snuck up on her," David continued, "She gave me a darn good bruise before Dean knocked her out. As we were driving off, the guy who had stayed in the house with her came out of nowhere and started chasing us like a lunatic and yelling 'BETH'. Of course, he couldn't keep up with us, the idiot." David spat out those last words but Beth's heart leaped. _Daryl was still alive_!

Seth looked back down at the blonde. "So your name is Beth," he said, his calm voice carrying a hidden menace in every word. Beth stared at the floor, refusing to have a conversation with the man. She wasn't about to give him what he wanted. "You will talk soon enough," Seth said with confidence before moving in front of the other girl. "What about this one," he asked David. "Oh, her. We had stopped at a river to refill our water and found her passed out at the river bank. She had awful bruises, you can see them for yourself. Don't bother talking to her, she hasn't spoken a single word during this whole week, she might have been hit too hard on the head," David informed Seth. "Alright, good work David," Seth said, "Go round up a few other men and check the other houses that we have set up, see if you can find a few more bodies. Gareth and his group will be coming around in a few days and we need to have the place stocked up if we are going to make any money." David left to follow out his commands, but Seth remained behind. He walked slowly in front of Beth, who refused to look at him. Instead she focused her eyes on his brown leather boots that were planted firmly in front of her. She felt a hand stroke her head and backed away as fast as she could from the man's touch. "Calm down little lady," Seth crooned at her, "You are lucky I like blondes, you are going to be my favorite." Beth glared at him with all the venom she could muster but he just returned her hatred with a smile. "Don't worry," he said, "you will come to like me with time, they all do." The door slammed behind him and the room was quiet.

Beth finally had the chance to look around. It was a simple set up. The small room had been made of brick and concrete and there was only one door. There was a window, but it was covered with a black tarp. A few ragged posters clung to the wall, but other than that it was bare. A metal desk had been shoved into the corner of the room, a few plates and cups were stacked on the top of it. Beth could only guess that the place used to be a factory and this was one of the old offices. In the middle of the room was a wooden table with a lit lantern sitting on it. The floor was made of cracked concrete and Beth's chains were attached to a metal circle that appeared to be bolted to the wall. The metal that clasped around her ankle was cold and Beth shivered between its touch and her soaking wet clothes.

Beth glanced over at the woman chained next to her. The woman's head hung down and her tangled black hair hid her face. She hadn't moved since the men left. "Hey," Beth said gently, but the Filipino didn't respond. Beth reached out for the girl's shoulder, but at the lightest touch, she shied away and began whimpering. The girl looked up with dark chocolate eyes that were full of fear. Beth withdrew her hand, not wanting to scare the disheveled woman. Despite the girl's haggard appearance, Beth could tell she had once been beautiful. The two women sat staring at each other for a while until the Filipino girl suddenly lunged forward and wrapped her arms around Beth. Sobs wracked the girl's body as she buried her head into the blonde's shoulder. Beth held the girl and tried to console her. Her words felt like useless fluff though and pretty soon Beth gave up talking and just stroked the girl's long hair.

After an hour or so, the Filipino girl had fallen asleep in Beth's lap. Her tears had left streaks on her dirty face but the teenager's breathing had become even again. Beth ran her hand over the girl's head. Taking care of others always made her feel stronger and forget her own problems. Sitting in the room without anyone to talk to and anything to look at, Beth's mind began to take in the situation. The older man, David, had said that Daryl had made it out of the house alive, but hadn't been able to follow her. They had driven her to this unknown location and it seemed unlikely that Daryl would be able to find them. Beth tried to hold back tears. As much as she wanted to believe Daryl would save her, she knew that even he wouldn't be able to track a vehicle on a road. _Be strong, if you are going to see Daryl again, you are going to have to escape on your own_. Beth began counting and breathing in and out every five seconds. _Be strong, you have a job to do_. It became her mantra, the same way it had back at the prison. Beth couldn't let herself fall apart, she had a job to do. Right now that job was comforting the younger girl and finding a way to escape. She had to keep her wits about her and watch for any opportunity to get free.

Daryl's POV

The scene kept playing over and over in Daryl's mind. He had killed several walkers on his way to the road. When he finally burst out onto the pavement, the first thing he had seen was Beth's backpack laying on the ground, the contents spilling out everywhere. Daryl's chest had tightened in fear and what he had spotted next didn't do anything to quell his panic. A walker lay dead nearby with Beth's knife buried in its head. That's when Daryl had heard the squeal of wheels and looked up to see a dark blue car picking up speed down the road. Daryl's stomach sank at the sight as the weight of what was happening kicked in.

Without caring how much attention it attracted he had started yelling. "BETH," he had hollered chasing after the dark blue car, "BETH!" The car had quickly gain distance, but Daryl memorized every detail he could make out. A white cross was on the back window and the license plate was THG4381. He had run after the car in despair as it turned around a bend and out of sight. _This can't be happening_! When Daryl had rounded the bend, the vehicle was nowhere to be seen. Daryl had known he couldn't keep up with a car, but he kept running because there was nothing else he could do. Beth was in that car and he couldn't just give up, she needed him, he was supposed to be protecting her! Daryl had run for several hours in the dark, following the road and screaming Beth's name. It was dangerous to be out in the open at night, especially when he was making so much noise, but Daryl hadn't cared. All that mattered was finding Beth.

Now, dawn was beginning to break and Daryl had been walking along the road, cursing the bastards that had taken Beth. His whole body ached from the long run but Daryl forced himself to keep walking. Every second he took could make the difference. Images of Beth scared and alone fueled Daryl's anger and he stumbled forward before breaking into a jog. His ragged breath sounded loud in the still morning air. Daryl tried to not think and just run, but as time dragged on the thoughts came unbidden to his mind. He had lost the last person in his group, he had utterly failed. All the names his father used to call him came flooding back. _Chicken-shit, good for nothin, idiot, failure, son-of-a-bitch. _The names were meant for Beth's kidnappers as well as himself_._ Daryl had failed the one person who had been left to depend on him. Her blue eyes sparkled in his mind and her smile floated in front of his eyes. _How could anyone want to hurt someone as innocent and sweet as Beth_? Daryl looked ahead at the road to find that it forked. His heart sank as he realized that his chance of finding Beth was diminishing before his very eyes. Daryl slowed down and searched desperately for some sign that would tell him which way the car had gone. However, the leaves that had been blown over the road appeared undisturbed and tires didn't leave tracks on pavement. Daryl let his crossbow fall out of his hand and he sank to the ground in defeat. Despite everything he knew about tracking and killing, it was worthless in this situation. Beth was out there somewhere and he didn't know how to find her. Once you got separated from people in this world, it wasn't very often you would find them again. It was like losing Sophia again, but a thousand times worse.

Daryl knew he was sitting out in the open, almost asking for trouble, but it didn't matter. He stared at the dead leaves in front of him, blaming himself for everything that had happened. Beth had trusted him and believed in him and he had let her down. Daryl had let his emotions get in the way of what needed to be done and the young girl had paid the price. When he had first let himself be distracted by her, Beth had ended up with her ankle in a metal trap. The second time, they had been sitting at the table eating dinner. The memory was only from last night but it felt like it had happened years ago. Daryl could still see her lips form a small circle as a slight "oh" had escaped her mouth. Her eyes had widened and in that moment Daryl was sure she had realized his feelings for her. He had tried to play it cool, like nothing had happened, like his life wasn't hanging on how she would respond. She had never been able to respond though. Cans had rattled and the dog had barked. Daryl had jumped at the chance to get away. He had wanted Beth's response and at the same time dreaded it. His mind had been so caught up over the beautiful young girl that he had made a dreadful mistake. Daryl had opened the door without checking to see what was outside.

Daryl cussed himself mentally, he could still feel the weight of the walkers pushing against the door, their nasty hands reaching for him. If Daryl hadn't opened the door, if he hadn't told Beth to meet him at the road, if they had just moved on like Daryl had originally planned, Beth wouldn't be gone. Daryl felt the way he did the night his mother died. He felt alone and desperate but unable to do anything. All of these years and nothing had really changed. He had learned a lot and become a lot stronger, but he still couldn't protect the ones he loved. When Beth had looked at him with those eyes full of admiration and told him that he was a good person, Daryl had thought for a while that he had changed, he had believed that he could be different. He had believed that he could be someone worthy of a girl like Beth. Yet, she had been taken away from him like his mother was, like his brother was, like the whole entire group was. He should have known that it was too good to be true, living in a house with a wonderful woman who accepted him for who he was. That just wasn't something he would ever have, even after the world had ended. Beth's words rang in his ears "You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone Daryl Dixon." Daryl hadn't taken her drunken statements too seriously, but now they came back to him like unwanted ghosts. He did miss Beth, he missed her much more than he ever thought he could and certainly much more than he should.

Beth's POV

The door opened and slammed back against the wall. The Filipino girl jumped up out of Beth's lap and returned to her former huddled position on the floor. A big burly man carried in a couple of paper plates with rice and beans. He set them on the floor with a single gruff command, "eat up", before he went back out of the room. Beth took the meager meal and began scarfing it down. Halfway through, she noticed that her fellow prisoner hadn't touched her plate. Beth picked up the food and set it closer to the girl. "Here, eat some," Beth encouraged. The Filipino girl stared at the food for a minute but then began hesitantly to pick at the pinto beans.

Beth finished the meal and continued trying to get the younger girl to eat. When it became apparent that she wasn't going to finish the meal, Beth ate the plain food herself. Her throat was dry and she needed the restroom. Beth tried not to think about her problems and let her mind wander to Daryl. Beth wondered what the redneck was doing, she hated to think of him all by himself. No one, not even Daryl could survive long on their own in the world they lived in now. She knew that he would look for her, no matter how impossible tracking her might be. Daryl wasn't the type to give up; he had searched for Sophia long after her own mother had lost hope. Beth remembered how the redneck had gone out every day looking for the child and had even risked his own life. Daryl was out there somewhere looking for her and Beth had to stay alive in order to see him again. The blonde began tugging against her shackles, evaluating how firm they were. To her disappointment, the metal and bolts all held tight. Two dark eyes followed Beth's movements. "Hey," Beth said in her most comforting voice, "what's your name." The girl shrank away and buried her head into her knees, refusing to answer the question.

As Beth was trying to figure out how to talk to the Filipino girl, the door opened and Seth entered with the burly man at his side. "How are my two songbirds doing," Seth asked cheerily. Beth's lips rose in a snarl as he mocked her with his pretend pleasantness. The Filipino girl curled into herself and got as close to the wall as possible. Seth gestured to the burly man, who handed him two bottles of water. "I bet both of you are thirsty, I might feel like rewarding you if you answer my questions," Seth told them. Beth stared at the water, the burn in her throat increasing. _What would Daryl do_? He certainly wouldn't answer the questions, he barely talked to people within his own group. However, if Beth was going to escape, she couldn't be dehydrated either. Beth wasn't about to spill all of her deep personal secrets so there was only one other option, to lie. Seth walked over to the younger girl and held out the water bottle. "Aren't you thirsty Princess," he encouraged. In a quick movement, the Filipino girl slapped the bottle out of his hands before going back to her fetal position. Seth's face transformed in an instant, going from a charming smile to a snarl. His eyes flashed and he hit the young girl across the face. "How dare you bitch," he hollered, moving forward as if to beat her again. "No," Beth screamed, trying to get between him and the curled form. Beth didn't even know the teenager, but she couldn't bear to watch her get assaulted.

"What do you want to know," she asked Seth, hating the power that he had over her. "Oh, look, this one is smart," Seth purred, he anger disappearing in an instant, "she knows how to be reasonable." He rewarded her with a short drink of water before taking the bottle away. "Now precious," he began, "why don't you tell me how old you are." Beth knew she looked younger than she was and figured she might be able to play that to her advantage. "I was fourteen when the outbreak happened and now I'm sixteen," she said, making her eyes as big and innocent as possible. Seth gave her a smile and seemed happy with her answer. He placed the water bottle in her hand and let her take a sip. "Why don't you tell me where you came from," Seth asked. Beth didn't see any harm in telling him about the prison, it was overrun and destroyed anyways. "I had a group," Beth answered, "We took over a prison and had it holed up tight until a neighboring community attacked us." Beth's eyes watered at the memory. "A lot of us died, but there are a lot of us who escaped and they are not going to be happy that you have taken me," Beth said, trying to make it seem like she had more than just Daryl hunting for her.

"A group looking for you," Seth snorted, while letting her have another mouthful of water, "From what David said, you were only with one other person. Who was the man you were with?" Beth bit her lip, she didn't know how much to say about Daryl. "Now babydoll, I'm going to need you to answer me when I ask you a question," Seth urged. Beth's skin crawled at the pet names he used on her. It had been sweet when Jimmy had given her similar nicknames, but this was the complete opposite of sweet. "He is my uncle," Beth replied, feeling that it was safer to claim to be related to the redneck than to actually explain their relationship. Seth gave her the water, which Beth took.

Next, Seth asked her questions about her life before the outbreak and if she had seen any other people since she left the prison. Beth told the truth unless she thought telling a lie would help her situation. A lot of the questions were trivial and Beth got the feeling that Seth enjoyed his power to make her talk more than he was worried about getting important information out of her. After half an hour of interrogation, Seth started winding down. However, his next question took her by surprise. "Have you ever had a boyfriend," Seth suddenly questioned. Beth squirmed, not feeling comfortable with the topic. "Yes," she admitted, Jimmy was the only official boyfriend she had ever had, although there had certainly been something between her and Zach. "Hmmmm," Seth pondered, staring at her. "How far did you go with him," Seth probed as he scooted closer. Beth glared at the older man and tried to put as much distance as she could between him, but her shackles kept her from moving much.

"If you so much as touch me," Beth snarled, dropping her compliant act, "My uncle will kill you when he finds me. He is very protective of me and has killed men before!" Seth broke out into laughter. "Sweetheart," he taunted, "your uncle isn't going to find you. You are never going to see your uncle again. Even if you do, he isn't going to be the one doing the killing." Seth grabbed Beth's wrist in a tight grip and she winced at the pressure as she tried in vain to pull away. The man stuck his face right up to hers, all of his charm disappearing in an instant. He growled, "Your mine now, you understand? MY GIRL! And no one is going to take you away from me!" Beth turned her head away, fear creeping into her stomach at his words. Luckily, the door banged open and David called to Seth from the doorway. "Boss wants to talk to you man," David ordered. Seth let Beth's wrist go but continued staring at her. "Now," David added. Seth patted Beth on the head, oblivious to her disgust at his touch. "I will be back my kitten, don't you worry," he said, before going through the door David held open. David let the door slam behind him and Beth could hear the click of a lock being turned.

Beth allowed a small whimper to escape her lips once she was sure the men were gone. "Seth is a psychopath," Beth thought, as she pictured how fast he could go from threatening to sweet talking. One second his eyes would be light and inviting and the next they would be angry and harsh. There was something mentally unstable about the attractive man. The Governor had been evil and had put up a front, but this guy was just plain deranged. Beth wondered what they planned on doing to her. Although she had sworn Daryl would come for her, she knew that seeing him again was unlikely. The blonde remembered hunting in the woods with him, carrying his heavy crossbow. She had told the redneck that she was getting better at hunting and soon wouldn't need him at all. Beth wanted to take her words back, she needed Daryl more than ever. Beth would have given almost anything to have the rough redneck beside her cussing and slurping up jars full of pig's feet. Her thoughts were interrupted by the Filipino girl making sniffling sounds. Beth reached out for her companion's hand, hoping to comfort her and needing comfort herself. However, she drew back when the girl jumped away from her touch. Beth wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her head them. She had never felt more alone.


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry it took me so long to get this next chapter out. I have been on vacation and had no access to the internet, but I look forward to continuing the story. This was an interesting and challenging chapter because it will set the foundation for what will happen now that I am leaving Beth's TV show storyline behind. I hope I portrayed her accurately; I feel that her caring for others is an important characteristic of her personality and sought to incorporate it. Enjoy!**

Daryl's POV

Daryl had been sitting on the ground for several hours. The sun had come up and was warming the back of his jacket, but his insides were cold. Daryl was frozen in indecision, he couldn't leave Beth but he couldn't follow her either. The redneck wanted nothing more than to start running, but he had no direction to run in. At this point, Beth was probably long gone and only fate would bring them back together. Daryl hung his head. He couldn't keep the dark thoughts from pressing in on him. Ever since the prison break, he had been having trouble with his emotions, but Beth had been there to make him feel better. She had always been so full of happiness and optimism, she had been his sunlight and now he was cast into despair without her to brighten him up. In all of the time Daryl had been working to keep Beth physically alive, he hadn't realized that she had kept him emotionally alive until she was no longer there. He wished for nothing more than her laughter or her taunting smile as she called him Mr. Dixon. He longed for those hands that would hold him together when he started thinking that the whole world was exactly what his father had told him it was, a piece of god-damn shit.

Daryl didn't fold his hands in prayer, he just closed his eyes and talked with an honesty he wasn't used to. He didn't know if he believed in God, especially after the outbreak, but he couldn't get Beth back on his own and he was willing to try anything. _Hey God, if you are up there, I know there ain't no good reason for you to listen to me, but you should have a reason to care about what happens to a girl like Beth. She is one of the only good things left in this world. If she is out there, let me find her, let Beth be safe. She doesn't have to have feelings for me or even like me. If you give her back to me, I will watch her from a distance and not let my guard down like the dumb ass I was being. Haven't you taken enough from me already? Why Beth? Why her?_ Daryl punched the ground at that last thought before looking around. He didn't know what he expected to see, it wasn't like Beth was going to just wander right out of the woods. The branches swayed from the tall trees and somewhere deep in the forest a walker moaned. The road was completely empty and now the redneck's knuckles were bleeding. Daryl suddenly felt really stupid for praying, wasn't like it had ever done him any good before, no reason that it would now.

The false hope that had come with praying left Daryl. Beth wasn't going to be plucked out of the hands of her captors by some higher being. It was more likely that he would never see her again, or if he did it may be the same way he found Sophia. The thought sent a shiver down his spine and caused Daryl to withdraw even deeper into himself. The last time a girl had gone missing and he had tracked her, it hadn't ended well. In the end, he had wondered if it would have been better to have never found Sophia. That way he could have at least kept a glimmer of hope that she was still alive out there somewhere. He remembered the shaking of Carol's arms as she had sobbed into his chest. Daryl hadn't been able to look away as the small walker had moved closer and closer. Rick had stepped forward and raised his gun. Daryl had known what was coming but couldn't look away. He had stared at the young girl he had searched weeks for fall to the ground, a hole in her already decaying head. Daryl had been glad that Rick had done the job because it would have killed him to have had to put the girl down, even though it wouldn't have really have been Sophia. If Daryl ever found Beth and she was in the same condition…. Daryl's mind trailed off at that idea. He would have to but he didn't know if he could. Daryl had done so many hard things. He had put a knife through his own turned brother, he had dragged himself out of a pit after falling off a cliff and being impaled by his own bolt, and he had buried many of the people in his group. However, when it came to Beth, he didn't know if he could be strong. Daryl buried his face in his hands, his breath coming in gasps. In the middle of his panic attack, the redneck felt a chill. He wasn't alone.

"Well, lookit here," said a gruff voice. Daryl raised his head to find that six ragged men had surrounded him. Never in his life had Daryl been so caught off guard and never in his life did he care so little about such a dangerous situation. He stared up at them, but didn't move. Everything that was happening seemed so far away. His crossbow was at his side, but Daryl didn't even bother picking it up. All the fight had gone out of him. The oldest man began walking toward him and Daryl found himself hoping that the man would just end him quickly. As the footsteps grew closer, a memory leapt into Daryl's mind. It was Beth, her back was leaning up against the wooden railing of the porch in front of the shack they had stayed at. Her delicate fingers had been fiddling with the bracelets that covered the scar on her wrist. Her beautiful blue eyes were staring at him as she spoke. "You are going to be the last man standing," she had said with confidence and pride. The words rang in Daryl's ears and suddenly a rush of energy came into his wearied body. Without even thinking, Daryl lashed out and his fist connected with the chin of the stranger who had been approaching him.

Daryl grabbed his crossbow and jumped up, a new sense of purpose filling him. He wasn't going to let Beth down! The older man lay on the ground, blood running from his nose. Daryl lifted up his crossbow and pointed it at the stranger's head. All the men around him raised their weapons. The atmosphere was tense until the older man talked. "Dammit, hold up," he ordered from the ground. All the men continued pointing their guns at Daryl, but they didn't fire. "I'm claiming the vest," came a nasally voice from behind the redneck, "I like them wings." Daryl didn't allow the taunt to distract him from the man lying in front of him, who must have been the leader. "Hold up," the man commanded again, wiping blood off of his face. A grin broke out from under weathered lips and the leader started laughing. The sound unnerved Daryl but he didn't move an inch, he kept his weapon trained on the man's right eye. The older man slowly stood up and brushed dirt of his black shirt, which was embroidered with a skull surrounded by roses. "A bowman," the leader commented, his smile was inviting but his eyes were calculating. Something about him reminded Daryl of his uncle and his brother. The men that surrounded him were like grown up versions of the kids Merle used to run with. Daryl knew what kind of people they were, he had grown up around their type. They weren't good, but they were familiar.

"I respect that," the leader said as he sized Daryl up, "See a man with a rifle, he coulda been some kind of photographer or soccer coach back in the day. But a bowman's a bowman through and through." Daryl didn't know what to make of the man's little speech but he didn't let his guard down. "What you got there, 150 pound draw," the older man asked, his eyes running along Daryl's crossbow, "I'll be donkey-licked if that don't fire at least 300 feet per second." The statement hung in the air as the two men stood there evaluating each other. Finally, the older man spoke again, "I've been looking for a weapon like that. Of course, I'd want one with a bit more ammo and minus the oblongata stains." He smiled to let Daryl know he was teasing him. Daryl shifted a bit, weighing his options in his mind.

The leader was offering him admission to the group. They definitely weren't the people Daryl would have chosen. However, he had learned long ago that a person couldn't make it alone in this world and he didn't have many other options. "Get yourself in some trouble," asked the annoying voice behind Daryl, the same one that had claimed his vest. Both the redneck and the leader ignored the man. "You pull that trigger," the older man said, motioning at the other men, "these boys are going to drop you several times over. That what you want?" Daryl wanted a lot of things, but mostly he just wanted Beth. He wasn't about to tell this ragtag bunch that though, for all he knew, they were the ones who had kidnapped Beth. The idea pricked at his mind and Daryl knew in that instant that he was going to accept the offer. There weren't many people in the area and by being with others his chances of running across the blonde would increase.

"Come on, fella, suicide is stupid," the leader said in a convincing voice, "why hurt yourself when you can hurt other people?" The man's face split into a smile at his own words and Daryl felt his stomach twist in disgust. His first impression had been right, these men were not the kind of men he could trust, not like Rick or Glenn. However, they were also the only lead he had on Beth, the only place that he could possible think to look. The man seemed to see his resolve waver. "Name's Joe," the older man said. Daryl lowered his weapon. "Daryl," he replied in a husky voice, which was still sore from screaming Beth's name.

Beth's POV

Beth had been locked in the room with the other girl all day. Not much had happened other than Seth visiting them or food being brought. Neither occurrence was pleasant, the food was always the same and Seth seemed like a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode. Beth looked over at the young girl, who she had started to call Renee. There was no meaning behind the name, it just seemed to fit the teenager. Renee hadn't spoken in all the time they had been trapped together. Sometimes Beth would half talk to herself and half talk to Renee, just to calm her own nerves. Despite the girl's initial avoidance, Renee had begun to allow Beth to hold her hand or run her fingers through the girl's long dark hair. Beth would try to get all of the tangles out of Renee's hair, it was a pointless task, but there was really little else to do. Beth wished she could help Renee more, but she couldn't even help herself at the moment. The young girl reminded Beth of Maggie, who had been almost comatose for weeks after being rescued from the Governor. Maggie had still talked and done chores, but there was that look of sadness and brokenness in her eyes that Beth now saw in Renee's. Beth morbidly wondered if she would soon have that very same look.

Voices floated into Beth's ears from under the doorway and she pricked up, trying to hear what was being said. The blonde could only catch snatches of the conversation. "Sorry boys….not for sale…these are for Gareth…choose any others." Masculine voices argued and suddenly, a gunshot rang out that made both girls jump. Everything was silent until a booming male voice rang out, "What I say isn't for sale isn't for sale, ya'll had best go and take your business elsewhere." Feet shuffled around the door and then Seth's voice entered the mix. "What do you mean for Gareth? You can't sell him those pretty gals, it would be such a waste," Seth demanded. "As long as they pay well, they can do whatever they want with the people they buy from us," answered the deep voice that had ordered the other men to leave the building. "Why not just give them the Filipino girl, no need to sell them both," Seth pleaded. Beth's skin crawled at the idea of being left on her own with Seth.

"Seth, hold your horses," came the reply, "you get way to attached to some of the girls we bring in, you gotta remember that this is a business, not some god-damned store full of candy for you to pick from. But I will do you a favor because you are a good worker. I will let Gareth have his pick and if they leave the blonde, you can have her." Beth felt her heart sink at those words as the two men walked away. They were going to give her to Seth? Beth put her hand over her mouth trying not to throw up as her stomach churned. To her surprise, a warm hand grasped her shoulder. Beth looked over to see that Renee was trying to comfort her. The Filipino girl gave a small smile and her eyes for just an instant had a bit of light in them. Then, the light disappeared and Renee withdrew her hand. Beth didn't move, not wanting to let the moment slip away. For once since she had arrived, she hadn't felt entirely alone. Beth went back to detangling Renee's hair, hoping against hope that they would stay together.

Daryl's POV

Daryl followed behind the men as they tramped through the woods. He didn't get too close but he also wanted to hear what they were saying. He listened closely for any clue that might help him find Beth. He couldn't ask them straight out if they had seen the young blonde, because even if they weren't her kidnappers, they gave him a bad vibe. There were no women in the group, which told Daryl enough. As much as he wanted to find Beth, he also didn't want her existence to be made known to this rough group. He knew what men like them could do to a young pretty girl even before the world had gone to shit, much less now when there were no rules except the ones you made yourself.

However, the men made no mention of anyone that sounded vaguely like Beth. Instead, they went on about some man who had killed one of their friends and how they were going to hunt him down. Daryl felt pity for whoever they were tracking because by their descriptive language, he got the feeling that they were not going to die quickly. He picked up some other tidbits of information too. This group was called the Marauders, because they drifted from place to place and raided other people's sites for supplies and food. Joe had saved the lives of several of the men, which made them very loyal to the older man. The man who had wanted to take his vest was a tall skinny man with stringy hair. He had a compound bow and a snarky attitude that made Daryl want to wipe the smug grin off his face. His hands became fists but Daryl knew now wasn't the time.

They walked for hours, the guys chatting away except for when Joe commanded that they shut their traps. Finally, the leader decided that it was time to set up for camp. The men all gathered round and started wrapping some barbed wire around the campsite. Daryl dropped his stuff on the ground, remembering how much Beth hated sleeping outside the first week after they had escaped the prison. He could clearly picture her face as she told him that living in the woods wasn't real living and that she wanted something to drink. The way she had crossed her arms over her chest because she had her mind set on getting a drink and was going to be stubborn about it made his heart clench. He quickly brushed the memory away and watched as the men rolled out sleeping mats and set up for dinner.

No one shared food with each other, it appeared that it was every man for himself. Daryl didn't have anything on him but he was too tired to go hunting. Instead, he took a seat on the ground and leaned up against a tree. "Hey you," called a man with a black and white bandanna on his head, "what's your story." Daryl looked over at the group of interested eyes. "No story to tell," he muttered, not in the mood for talking. "Com'on, man," another insisted, "People don't travel on their own no more, something bad musta happened to you." Daryl glared at the stranger, he wasn't about to go and tell his life story to a bunch of good for nothing men that he had just met. Finally, they accepted his antisocial behavior and went back to talking among themselves.

Daryl took off his vest and rolled it up like a pillow. He laid down on the hard ground and listened to the voices of the men as they finished up dinner. Despite his exhaustion, Daryl couldn't fall asleep. He didn't trust these men and didn't like the idea of having to sleep around the cutthroat bunch. However, he couldn't stay awake forever and he hadn't slept the night before. Daryl shifted and the leaves around him rustled. He was a bit warm in his layered attire so he tugged his long sleeve, maroon shirt off and added it to his makeshift pillow. The redneck instantly knew he had made a mistake. His ragged yellow shirt smelled like peaches and soap, it smelled like Beth, which was the very reason he had kept it on yesterday. Without the maroon shirt to hold in the scent, it surrounded Daryl and pushed its way into his nose. Daryl tried to keep the memories at bay but his heart wasn't in it and soon they flooded him. He remembered how good it felt to hold Beth in his arms the night they had both slept in the same bed. They had only fallen asleep together twice, but somehow Daryl felt like that was the way it had always been. Those two mornings of waking up to find the beautiful blonde girl in his arms had made him feel content in a way that nothing else ever had. The few times he had had sex with women, he had never stuck around to cuddle. Daryl had never slept beside anyone else, except Merle, who would climb in his bed half drunk in the middle of the night and start snoring right in his ear.

The redneck had never wanted people around him while he slept, because that was when he was at his most vulnerable, but somehow it had just felt right with Beth. The way her small form pressed into his chest made it seem like she was meant to be held in his arms. Then, there was that night when she had said his name in her sleep….. Daryl growled and turned onto his side. Two nights with Beth and now he was unable to feel comfortable falling asleep without her. Daryl stared at the fire until it and the voices died out. Finally, he fell into a light sleep, where images of Beth beckoned him with open arms and a sweet smile.

Beth's POV

Seth had brought Beth and Renee a couple of blankets and pillows the night before to make them more comfortable. The attention he had placed on Beth was unnerving and she had tried her best to avoid eye contact until he left. Beth had then curled up under the scratchy material and had taken forever to fall asleep. She had wished for Daryl's strong arms to be around her, she had wished for the rhythm of his breathing to lull her to sleep. Instead, all that could be heard were Renee's little sobs as the girl had nightmares in her sleep. Beth didn't wake her though, because things weren't that much better in real life. Beth's fingers had tugged at the metal hearts on her necklace, a nervous habit that gave her some small comfort. Finally, she had fallen into a fitful sleep only to wake up screaming from the image of her father being beheaded. Renee's arms had been around her and the girls had clung to each other in the dark until breakfast had been brought to them.

Today, they were given green beans, which for Beth was a source of great joy. She sighed at just how bad life was if green beans could make her day. She scarfed them down and was happy to see that Renee did as well. The next item that was brought in was a bucket of water, which the girls were instructed to wash with. They were given a rough rag and a bar of soap to share between them. As Beth wiped the dirt away, she suddenly began to feel naked without the layer of grim covering her. Renee whimpered as she ran the cloth over one of her larger bruises. Beth took the girl's hand and gave it a squeeze. She was rewarded by a small smile from the Filipino.

A few minutes after they finished, a man came in and took the water and rags away. He left them with a single hairbrush, which Beth used to brush Renee's hair. The action was so familiar and calming that Beth began to hum the way she used to when she had taken care of Judith. When Renee's hair was finished, Beth braided it into French braid and used one of the strings from her homemade bracelets to tie the bottom. The girl's hand reached up and felt along her hair and her brown eyes widened in surprise. She truly smiled for the first time since Beth had met her. It was funny how little things could make one so happy.

Renee took the brush from Beth and indicated that she should turn around. Beth obliged and let the teenager brush her hair. The slight tug on her scalp was relaxing and for a minute, Beth could almost forget where she was. She sat and enjoyed the sensation as she wondered why her captors were being so nice to them. Seth was always trying to be sweet, but in a creepy way. This was different though. Beth's mind wandered back to the argument outside the door yesterday. She shivered as she recalled the gunshot that had ended a life. The loud voice had said something about selling and that a man was coming to look at them. That is when it clicked. _How could I have been so stupid? _

Beth instantly turned around and yanked the brush out of Renee's hand before throwing it across the room. Renee was cowering in the corner and Beth instantly regretted her outburst, but it was necessary. "Renee," Beth urged, "You have to take the braid out! Mess your hair up as much as possible! They want us to look nice so that they can sell us for a good price!" Renee stared at her in horror as Beth's statement sunk in. Her hand slowly reached up to the green string that was tied in her hair. Before she could pull it out though, footsteps rang out in the hallway. Both girls froze at the sound of the door lock clicking open. The metal door swung inward to reveal several men that Beth had never seen before. One was a large man with a toolbar mustache. He wore a black cowboy hat on his head and black cowboy boots on his feet to match.

"Right this way men," he boomed, making Beth sure he was the man who had promised her to Seth if she didn't sell. Two men stepped in. The first was a white man with light brown hair and hazel eyes. He wore plain brown button up shirt and had a gun strapped to his waist. The white man was followed by a Hispanic male who had curly black hair and tattoos all along his arms. Beth shrunk into the wall and saw that Renee was doing the same. "These are just what you asked for," the cowboy thundered. The white man moved closer and inspected both of the girls.

"Mark," the white man asked, "What were the instructions that Mary gave you for picking the girls?" The Hispanic man sauntered over and stared down coldly at Beth. "All she said was that they had to be young females, in good shape, with no markings or deformities that came from violence," Mark answered. He then bent down and began looking at Renee. He opened her mouth to see her teeth and ran his hand down the bruises on her arms. "This one don't look too good right now, but she will heal," Mark commented as he continued examining her. Beth bit her lip, fighting the urge to slap Mark's hand away from Renee because she knew such an outburst wouldn't do any good. Mark's hand stopped on the shackle that encircled Renee's ankle. "What is this," he asked, but Renee didn't answer. Beth peered over, wondering what he was talking about.

"This one has a tattoo on her ankle," Mark announced, "she won't do." The large cowboy frowned at his statement. "Gareth, why are ya'll so picky, does it matter if one of them has some dumb bird on her foot," the cowboy asked the white man. Gareth didn't answer but just turned his focus to Beth. "This one is in better shape," he said to his companion. Mark walked over and Beth found herself the center of attention. Gareth began looking at her arms and her legs and stopped over the bracelets that covered Beth's scar. "How did you get this," he asked in a calm tone. Beth squirmed, she didn't want to tell the truth, it was too personal. Instead, she kept quiet, following Renee's example.

Gareth looked over at Mark. "We need at least one, which is better? Can we still use this one even if she has a scar," Gareth inquired. Mark looked between the two of them and finally replied. "The more natural the mark the better," he decided, "That is what Mary would probably say." Gareth nodded and looked up at the cowboy. "John, we will take this one. If you can keep her here until I finish looking at the others I would appreciate it. We want this one kept separate," Gareth instructed. John tipped his hat. "Now you know these girls are a pretty penny. Don't usually find them in such good condition these days," John warned. Gareth just gave him as small smile. "There is a reason we are your best customer," Gareth said, "Now show me the rest." The men filed out of the room as Beth took in what was happening. She was being bought. If she hadn't, Seth would have gotten her, but the unknown made Beth just as scared. She sat staring at the wall, dreading the moment when the men would returned.

An iron hard grip grasped Beth's shoulder and she looked over to see Renee looking more afraid than when Seth had hit her. "Those are bad men," Renee said desperately and Beth gasped as she heard the girl's voice for the first time. Renee's grip tightened, "Whatever you do, don't eat any meat they give you, don't do it. They are bad." The teenager's eyes burned into Beth's soul, they were wild and almost possessed looking. "How do you know," Beth managed to reply, "What is wrong with the meat?" Renee just managed a strangled "DON'T" before the door opened. Beth stared at the Filipino girl, in shock of what had just happened.

Suddenly, rough hands were blindfolding her and removing the shackle from her ankle. This was the one chance that Beth might get. She screamed and kicked out but her legs only found air. The blonde strained as her hands were tied behind her back, but she wasn't strong enough to resist. One of the men yelled out and then the sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the room, along with Renee's screams. Beth thrashed, desperate to help her friend, who must have tried to stop the men from taking her. However, she was tugged out of the room and down the hall. Renee's yells became further and further away. Beth tried to make a mental image of where she was going, but since she had no clue what the building looked like, it wasn't reliable. She stumbled as she was pushed down some stairs, but a firm hand kept her from completely falling.

When a rush of warm air hit her, Beth knew she was outside. She began struggling harder against the person who held her, knowing that this might be her last chance. Cold metal suddenly dug into her temple and Beth froze as in place. "Now girlie," came Mark's voice, "I don't want to have to get rough with you, but you are going to have to calm down." Beth sagged, knowing that she wouldn't be able to escape. She let herself be led into a vehicle. She felt the engine rumble under her seat and felt Mark sit beside her. Beth's heart sank. She was going to be taken somewhere even farther away from Daryl and she was helpless to do anything. Beth wondered if she would ever see Daryl or Renee again.


End file.
